


Winter Song

by Hovercraft79



Series: B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate's Summer Playlist [3]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Hicsqueak, ww2018winterfluffevent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-07 18:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 54,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79
Summary: Hecate struggles a bit in the aftermath of a personality changing potion, a love potion and the big freeze. Thanks to an unexpected snowfall, Pippa is there to help her find her way.





	1. Let it Snow!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to that series. I really don’t know what I was thinking setting the fluff stories before the romantic relationship begins. 
> 
> While this is overall a fluff story, it does touch on some of the fallout from Hecate's experiences with the personality changing potion, the love potion and the big freeze. She's struggling, y'all. 
> 
> The title of the overall story comes from the song by Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles. Chapter title is the holiday classic by Dean Martin.
> 
> As always, many thanks to Sparky for signing up again to proofread and edit for me. It was totally how she hoped to spend her holiday season.

Pippa made sure to cover her mouth as she watched Hecate study the board. It wouldn’t do for Hecate to catch the twitch of a grin that kept pulling at her lips. She had her. Pippa knew she had her – and she knew Hecate knew it as well. Hecate could study the board for the next hour – and she very well might – but she still wouldn’t be able to escape. Taking in the way the fire cast warm highlights into Hecate’s raven hair, Pippa almost hoped Hecate would study the board for another hour. All the better for observing the dark-haired witch as she concentrated on the board.

A loose wisp of hair had escaped Hecate’s bun. Pippa wanted nothing more than to reach out and tuck it behind Hecate’s ear, but… Sighing heavily, Hecate leaned back in her chair, tapping her nails against the edge of the chessboard. Eyes narrowing, she pinned her gaze on the blonde witch sitting across from her.

Pippa said nothing; instead she simply arched an eyebrow and held Hecate’s gaze.

“I believe I shall have to…concede defeat.” She tipped the ebony king onto its side with an elegant finger. “Congratulations, Pipsqueak. Well played.” 

“Thank you, darling. A rare treat for me, then.” Pippa leaned forward and began resetting her pieces so the board would be ready for their game next week. Next week, she thought, a bubble of happiness expanding in her chest. She had standing plans with Hecate every week – Thursday night chess games. Not that things were perfect – Pippa was still thankful that Hecate had agreed to keep the chessboard at Cackle’s instead of leaving it at Pippa’s. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Pippa still worried that Hecate would find some way to cancel their plans – especially if the plans were at Pentangle’s. “It’s come back to you quickly – pretty soon I’m going to have to start studying the game.”

Hecate smiled – tight but pleased. “I could loan you one of my strategy books.”

“A-HA! I knew it!” Pippa laughed and flicked a tiny stream of magic at Hecate, knocking over the line of pawns she’d just set up. “I will have to step up my game then.”

Hecate shot her a look that would have passed as a glare, if the twinkle in her eyes hadn’t ruined it. She waved her hand over the board and set all the pieces in place. “Do you need a refill?” she asked, reaching for Pippa’s glass. Hecate’s hand froze – mid-reach. Her head jerked up and her eyes darted around the room as though she’d just heard a fly buzz and was searching for it. Her hands were both in a defensive position, ready to cast whatever spell she needed.

Pippa couldn’t feel it at first, but then a faint prickle rushed across the back of her neck. “Are those—”

“The castle wards, yes.” Hecate closed her eyes, concentrating on what had been triggered. After a moment she sagged in relief, inadvertently knocking some of the chess pieces over as she dropped bonelessly into her chair. “Nothing to be alarmed about.” She forced her features into something resembling a smile.

“Hiccup?” Are you all right?” Absently, she magicked the pieces back and sent the chessboard back to its usual position beside the fireplace. “What is it?”

Hecate scrubbed a hand across her face, huffing out a gust of air. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Pippa frowned at what was clearly a lie. Hecate hadn’t been fine since… well. In truth, Hecate had never been fine. It was only when they were girls, after they’d become friends, that Hecate had come anywhere approaching fine. But this was different. She was different, lately. Pippa knew she didn’t know Hecate as well as she used to - thirty years was a chasm of time to cross. But Hecate felt different now than she did over the summer. Ever since Ursula Hallow had tried ousting Ada, Hecate had been on edge. Hecate hadn’t talked about it, but on her second visit to Cackle’s to play chess, Dimity had pulled her aside and told her about the personality changing potion and the love potion and more about what had gone on during the big freeze.  Pippa’s heart had broken as Dimity relayed details of ‘Miss Softbroom’ to her. She’d been mad as hell when she’d told her how the love potion had forced them all to pursue Mr. Rowan-Webb. Pippa may not know exactly where Hecate’s preferences lay, but she knew that forced romantic interest in an all-but-married male coworker was a violation of the deepest kind.

After Dimity filled her in, Pippa wondered how she hadn’t see it sooner. Hecate had always been tense, but the lines of her mouth and shoulders were almost brittle. She guarded her glass obsessively and waited until others ate before she took a bite of anything. Pippa didn’t blame her. She’d been drugged twice – once intentionally. That she’d been drugged because of her personality was the worst part of all, Pippa thought. She didn’t believe for a minute that Hecate had no recollection of the day. Maybe at first, she thought, but those memories wouldn’t stay buried forever. By now, Hecate would know damn well everything that had happened that day – no matter how much she might pretend she didn’t. And how was Hecate supposed to feel after that? After a lifetime of being scorned for a personality shaped by her father’s coldness, to know her own students wanted to drug her into someone else? Pippa had cried that night, once she’d returned to Pentangle’s -cried for Hecate who must have felt the same way she had as a girl. After all, much the same thing that had happened to her almost every day of her childhood, hadn’t it? People didn’t like who she was, so they were determined to change her or hurt her because of it.

Shaking her head slightly to clear away the memories, Pippa pulled her attention back to the present. “What is it, then?” She wanted to place her hand on Hecate’s knee, but she didn’t think it would be welcomed.

“Ada’s wards. Not for danger…the weather wards, but…” Hecate closed her eyes and cast out with her magic. After a moment her eyes popped open and she sat forward in the chair. “Oh!”

“What is it, Hiccup?” Pippa watched her get up and race to the window. She followed her to the window, stopping short when she got a glimpse of the swirling snow. “When did that start?”

Hecate flipped open her pocket watch. “It’s just after midnight, December first. Time for the first snowfall of winter. It wasn’t snowing when you arrived at eight, was it?” She snapped the watch closed.

“No… there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.” She stepped closer to Hecate, just close enough for their shoulders to brush together. Did Hecate lean in to her? It felt like it. “It’s beautiful, though, isn’t it? Look how big the flakes are.”

“It reminds me of the time we sneaked on to the roof to have our own Yule celebration.” Hecate glanced sideways at her. “You refused to go inside until we were soaked to the bone.”

“I refused? That’s not how I remember that night,” Pippa finally braved wrapping a hand around Hecate’s elbow. “I do remember that you, dear Hiccup, you nearly set your cloak on fire with a warming spell.” Hecate leaned closer in to her, she was sure of it this time. They stood there, side by side, watching the snow come down in big, wet flakes. They each spoke at the same time.

“I guess I’d better get home now.”

“I guess you can’t go home now.”

They looked at each other and Pippa giggled. She let her thumb rub back and forth just above Hecate’s elbow.

“Please, Pippa. I can’t…you can’t travel in this.” Hecate stared intently out the window before glancing shyly back at Pippa. “You… you should stay… at Cackle’s.”

Pippa opened her mouth to argue, but she caught herself before she snuffed out the tiny, shaky, flickering look of hope she saw in Hecate’s eyes. She squeezed Hecate’s arm tighter and leaned in. “If you don’t mind me crashing on your sofa, I’d love to stay. I doubt a warming spell would keep the chill away for that long.”

“I don’t mind,” Hecate said quickly, before flashing a brief, bright, full smile. “It’s no trouble at all.” She smile faltered. “You could stay in one of the guest rooms, if you’d rather. It would be more comfortable than my sofa. It probably isn’t appropriate to have the Headmistress of another school sleeping on my sofa, anyway.  I can let Ada know.”

Pippa shook her head. “It’s a good thing the only person here is your friend Pipsqueak then, isn’t it?” She smiled up at Hecate. “Really, darling, there’s no reason to go to all of that trouble – or to wake Ada. Besides,” she ran her hand down Hecate’s arm, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go and magicking the sofa longer and wider. “This certainly won’t be the first time Pipsqueak sneaked in to stay with her Hiccup without the Headmistress knowing about it.”

Hecate barked out a laugh, before covering her mouth with her hand. “I still don’t understand how you always managed to talk me into breaking so many rules.” She summoned a set of twin-sized bedlinens from the Academy’s storeroom.

“Far too easily,” Pippa said, winking. “Admit it, Hiccup, deep down you’ve always been just as much a rebel as I.” Taking one end of the sheets, she helped Hecate make up the sofa.

“Hardly,” she snorted. “You were just persuasive – and a terrible influence on an impressionable girl such as myself.”

Pippa chuckled, pleased that Hecate was comfortable enough to tease. “You didn’t think it was so terrible when we charmed the kitchen pots to fly to the basement every time cook wanted to make that hideous pea soup, did you? Now, if you would be so kind as to loan me a night dress or pajamas?”

Pippa followed Hecate into her bedroom and tried not to get caught being nosy while her friend rummaged through her cupboard. Hecate’s bedroom was just as stark as her living area. A small bookcase sat on one wall next to Hecate’s vanity, while the cupboard sat on the wall opposite. Hecate’s bed sat center of the third wall, flanked by two night tables. The furniture was all dark woods, mahogany, Pippa guessed, well-made but without much ornamentation.

The bed itself, though? Even from across the room Pippa could see that the bed was where Hecate splurged. She walked over to get a closer look. At first, she’d thought the bedding was black, but up close she saw it was midnight blue – and luxurious. She ran a hand over it; the feel was magnificent. Four plump pillows leaned against the headboard covered in a lighter blue, but equally luxurious cases.

Pippa smiled to herself. That, at least, had not changed about Hecate. Even as a girl, sleep had been a most precious commodity – easily lost to night terrors or replaying every perceived failure Hecate experienced in a day.

Glancing at the nightstand, Pippa found herself once again staring into her teenaged eyes. The framed photo of Hecate and her was still the only purely decorative thing in the room. She picked it up so she could see them more clearly. Her glasses were sitting on the coffee table.

Behind her, Hecate cleared her throat. “I think these will be most comfortable – and warmest.” She glanced down at the photograph in Pippa’s hands. “You duplicated that after we… after the Spelling Bee, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Pippa nodded. “I enlarged it, too. It’s hanging on the wall in my sitting room with the rest of my family photos.”

“I don’t really have photos for the wall.”

“You have this one,” Pippa said, holding up the photograph. “Family can mean a lot of different things, Hecate. I know you have to have photos of you and Ada, or Dimity or…”

“I see my coworkers every day, Pippa. I hardly think I need photographs of them on my wall.”

Pippa smiled as she set the photo back on the bedside table, wincing inside. She was pushing. Too much, too soon and Hecate was getting uncomfortable. “True enough,” she said, forcing a small chuckle to ease the tension. “Besides, if Dimity ever knew you even had a picture of her, much less displayed it, you’d never hear the end of it.”

“Quite right,” Hecate said, smiling again. “Pajamas?” She pressed the purple bundle into Pippa’s hands. Again, Pippa couldn’t help but notice the sinful softness of the material.

“Thank you, Hiccup.”

“Why don’t you take the bathroom first? If you look in the bottom drawer on the left, you’ll find a brand new toothbrush.”

“Thanks,” she took a few steps towards the bathroom before turning back. “And Hiccup? Thank you for asking me to stay. It feels a bit like old times, doesn’t it?”

Hecate nodded, looking pleased, but she didn’t say anything. Pippa didn’t really need her to speak.

“If you’d like, I’ll help you braid your hair for bed, just like when we were girls.” She giggled. “I’m a bit out of practice, though. No promises on the quality.”

“That… would be…acceptable.” Hecate winced even as she said it.

Pippa knew Hecate was feeling awkward again, so she simply smiled her brightest smile and said, “That would be acceptable to me as well, Hiccup,” before retreating to the bathroom.

Two hours, two glasses of wine, and three attempts at French-braiding Hecate’s hair later, Pippa lay curled on the sofa, breathing in Hecate’s scent from the pillow. Rosemary. Hecate always smelled faintly of rosemary and mint. Pippa made a note to snoop at her shampoo when she was in the bathroom next.

Staring at the blank wall, Pippa counted back to the Spelling Bee. It had been just over six months since they’d reconciled. A stormy six months – especially for Hecate – marked by episode after episode of what felt like ‘two steps forward, three steps back’ progress. But not tonight. Pippa smiled into the pillow. Tonight felt like maybe, just maybe, they might have turned a corner. Still smiling, Pippa rolled onto her back and watched the shadows from the fire dance across the ceiling until she began drifting off to sleep. Her last waking thought was to thank every god or goddess she could think of for unexpected snowfalls.


	2. Winter Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking advantage of an unexpected visit, Pippa convinces Hecate to enjoy a pleasant evening taking in the holiday sights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to that series. I really don’t know what I was thinking setting the fluff stories before the romantic relationship begins, but there you go.
> 
> The title of the story comes from the Michael Bublé cover version of the song and there’s a bit of Brenda Lee’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree tossed in for good measure.
> 
> As always, many thanks to Sparky for signing up again to proofread and edit for me – even during church! The last bit was added after she finished, so any mistakes there are all mine. She even knew that the first car I had in mind didn’t come with back seats. Sparky rocks!
> 
> Also, I’d never heard of a Morris Minor before this fic and now I want one REALLY bad.

Hecate quietly closed the door with her hip, careful not to wake the woman still curled on the sofa. She noted the fire had burned almost all the way down. The morning sun shining through the windows cast long shadows around her sitting room, making Pippa look lovely.

She set the tray down on the coffee table and took a moment to study her friend. Her friend. There were so many years that she didn’t believe she would ever be able to call her that again. Gratitude surged in her chest, as strong as her magic ever did.

Pippa looked lovely, of course, but, sleeping, she also looked peaceful. Younger, even. The lines hadn’t disappeared from her face, of course, but they’d relaxed. Hecate couldn’t help but think that the marks of time’s passage made Pippa even lovelier.

Slowly, Hecate lowered herself to her knees next to the sofa. “Pippa?” She whispered. “I’ve brought you some breakfast, Pipsqueak.” She rested a hesitant hand on Pippa’s knee. “Pip?

“Hhhmmm….” Pippa stretched, peeping one eye open. “G’morning, darling.” She stretched out on the sofa, arms pressing over her head until she quit yawning, then pulling them back under the covers. “Brrr… Is it still snowing?”

“No…cold and clear.” Hecate nodded at the tray on the coffee table. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat… I got everything that was sweet.”

“You know me too well, Hiccup.” Pippa pressed herself into a seated position and patted the sofa next to her. “C’mon, Hiccup. Let’s eat.” She paused, one hand on a blueberry muffin, one eyebrow arched, waiting for Hecate to join her. It only took a moment for Hecate to scramble onto the sofa.

Hecate summoned her tea set, sending a thin stream of magic into the pot to boil the water before adding the tea. A few moments later, Pippa was spooning a frightening amount of sugar into her cup.

“So…what shall we do today?” Pippa asked around a mouthful of muffin. “It’s like the whole day is ahead of us – I don’t want to waste it.”

Hecate opened her mouth to say she didn’t know, when a knock at the door interrupted her.  She felt a sudden rush of guilt, like they’d just been caught after curfew. The sheepish grin on Pippa’s face told her that the blonde was feeling much the same way. With a quirk of her lips, Hecate swept across the room, opening the door to a smiling Ada.

“Good morning, Hecate.” She leaned around Hecate and smiled at Pippa. “Well met, Miss Pentangle!”

“Well met, Ada! I hope you don’t mind that I imposed myself upon your hospitality? I’m afraid we were too engrossed in our chess game last night and failed to notice the snow. Hecate insisted I stay.”

“And right she was to do so, my dear.” Ada eyed the tray full of breakfast sweets until Hecate waved her into the room and summoned a third tea cup. “Thank you, Hecate, dear, I’d love to.”  She pulled one of the wing chairs closer to the coffee table and dug in.

After a few moments of companionable munching, Ada swallowed the last of her tea and turned to Pippa. “I wonder, Miss Pentangle, if –”

“Pippa, Ada. Please call me Pippa. Now that Hecate and I have rekindled our friendship, I hope to be spending more time here socially. If that’s all right with you?”

Ada clapped her hands together. “I think it’s delightful…Pippa. I look forward to having you around the castle.  In fact,” Ada refilled her cup. “I was wondering if I might convince you to come back next weekend? I find I’m in need of a judge for our Spell Science Fair.”

“I’d love to,” Pippa’s eyes darted to Hecate. “If that’s all right with you, darling. I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome.” Pippa willed her hand to lay flat on her thigh…refusing to clutch at the blanket still covering her lap.

“I’d hate for our girls to not have a judge.” Hecate replied, stiffly, staring at her manicured nails.

Well, Pippa thought, not exactly a ringing endorsement, but...this was Hecate. Pippa watched Hecate rub her thumbs together, shoulders straight but tight, eyes blinking rapidly, breathing unsteady. Pippa smiled. It may have been thirty years, but she could still read Hecate. And Hecate was saying loud and clear that she wanted to say yes, she was just too afraid to expose that much vulnerability. “Since Hecate doesn’t have any objection to me crashing on her sofa, then I’d be delighted to accept.”

Not a single woman mentioned the fact that Cackle’s had multiple guest rooms.

****

Hecate closed the door on Ada’s retreating form. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I did, darling, thank you.” She patted the sofa next to her again. “So. What shall we do today? I mean it, Hiccup, I want us to do something fun. We haven’t been together on a Saturday for ages.”

“Thirty years,” Hecate said, looking away.

“Don’t think about that, Hiccup. It doesn’t do either of us any good. We’re both here now. It’s a beautiful day, and OH!!!” Bouncing up and down, Pippa grabbed Hecate’s hand. “I know just what we can do! Let’s go down the mountain to the city. It’s getting close to Christmas – we can go shopping for Yule and Christmas gifts…have lunch…once it gets dark we can go look at holiday lights.” She swung Hecate’s hand back and forth. “Please? Say yes, Hiccup, please?” She put on her best wishing face and batted her eyes. “Please?”

Hecate rolled her eyes. “I refuse to wear an ugly Christmas sweater.”

“Never!” Pippa threw her arms around Hecate, pulling back the instant she felt Hecate stiffen. “Come on then. Get dressed in your best Ordinary outfit; we’re going to town.

****

“Oh, Hiccup, isn’t it beautiful?” Pippa stared breathlessly at the village before them. “I’m so glad you suggested transferring to the village.” Like something out of a postcard, the tiny village of Moreland-on-Heath glittered before them. Twinkling lights zig-zagged over the street, dappling the cobblestones in color. Pippa stepped over to one of the black iron lamp posts and breathed in the scent of the evergreen wreaths that hung from each post. “Mmmm…it smells like Christmas, Hiccup. Come smell.”

Hecate rolled her eyes, but walked over anyway, pleased to please Pippa. She dutifully sniffed the wreath, nose twitching as she tried to reign in a sneeze. She failed. “CHIOO!” 

Pippa giggled and summoned a handkerchief, eyes twinkling as she held it out. “Sorry, darling.” She waited while Hecate blew her nose and dabbed at a watering eye. Once Hecate seemed back in sorts, Pippa threaded her arm through Hecate’s. “Do you hear the carolers? Let’s go that way.”

Wandering arm in arm down the street, they oohed and ahhhed over each twinkling storefront. One business had gone all out and transformed their building into Santa’s workshop, complete with artificial snow swirling down on them. Dancing toys and busy elves marched through the workshop. Even Hecate’s gazed up in wide-eyed wonder.

“Look over there, Hiccup!” Pippa pointed to a coffee shop that had taken a decidedly more modern turn. Cool blue and pink rope lights outlined the building, giving it a vintage neon-light vibe. A dozen pink flamingos, each wearing a tiny Santa Hat, lined the walkway to the entrance. In place of a Christmas tree, an enormous red and green lava lamp glowed from inside the front window. “Wow…this is just…wow.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it. Is that a rocket?” Hecate examined the gleaming silver rocket, fascinated by the lights that flashed in time to the music playing in the background. She cocked her head, Brenda Lee’s ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ filled the air. She turned to see Pippa studying a candy-apple red Morris Minor convertible that was being driven by Santa Claus with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer riding shotgun, nose glowing brightly. People seemed to be taking turns climbing into the back seat to take photos with Santa and Rudolph. She didn’t even have to ask. Of course, Pippa would want a picture.

Without saying a word, Hecate sidled over to the line, taking up a space at the rear and watching. In only a few minutes Pippa turned to speak, frowning when she didn’t see Hecate. Her head whipped back and forth as she scanned the crowd for Hecate. Before she panicked, Hecate flicked a bit of magic her way, letting it bounce off the blonde’s shoulder. Pippa spun around and spotted Hecate at once. Her face broke into a brilliant smile when she realized that Hecate was in line for the photograph.

Pippa practically ran to take up her place in line with Hecate, bouncing and hopping until they were able to climb into the back seat of the Minor. Pippa scrambled in first then turned around and held out a hand to Hecate.  Hesitating, Hecate stared wistfully at Pippa’s hand before reaching out and taking it, smiling shyly up at Pippa as she climbed in beside her. As they settled into the back seat, Hecate noticed that Pippa’s ponytail was caught in her coat.  Before she could think to much about it, she reached over and pulled it free, running it through her hand an extra time before smoothing it against Pippa’s back. She glanced away, but not before she caught a glimpse of the brilliant smile that lit Pippa’s face.  Before Pippa could say anything, the photographer had them smiling for the camera.

****

Later that night, Hecate stood in the doorway to her bedroom, smiling as Pippa slept on her magically enlarged sofa. On the other side of the room, near the door, hung a new picture of two women bundled into the back seat of a car, beaming. Hecate was leaning into Pippa’s side, and, while it didn’t show, she knew their gloved fingers were laced together in Pippa’s lap. For the first time in a long time, Hecate Hardbroom was looking forward to the holidays.


	3. Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday morning and Pippa is still at Cackle's. A fact that does not go unnoticed by Mildred, Enid and Maud. Maybe a bit of Mistletoe is just what the castle needs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to that series. 
> 
> Mistletoe can be a bit of an icky holiday tradition. I’ve tried to make that not be the case here.  
> The title of the story comes from the Randy Travis song. 
> 
> Thank you to Sparky proofing this for me - and the tiny bit of Latin. She’s a trooper.

 

Enid nudged Mildred’s foot under the table. “She’s still here,” she said, rolling her eyes towards the teacher table in the Dining Room.

Mildred twisted around to see.

“Don’t turn around!” Enid hissed. “Are you crazy?” She spun Mildred back around.

“How am I supposed to see who you’re talking about if you don’t let me look?” Mildred glanced at Maud. “What is she talking about?” Maud just shrugged and went back to eating her porridge.

“Miss Pentangle… she’s here.” Enid whispered. “She was here yesterday, too.” Enid watched Pippa scoop some porridge into two bowls. Into one she added a scoop of raisins and a drizzle of honey. She slid that one in front of the seat next to her. Into the second bowl she spooned a large quantity of sugar, added a sizeable dollop of butter, then finally a generous pour of cream. “I have to hand it to her, the witch knows how to make porridge.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Maud said, finally looking up from her porridge. “I remember quite distinctly that only Miss Bat and Mr. Rowan-Webb were here at breakfast. Miss Hardbroom came in and picked up a tray of breakfast foods, but that was all.”

“I didn’t say I saw her at breakfast,” Enid said, rolling her eyes. “She left the castle with Miss Hardbroom around six o’clock last night. They were dressed up.”

Maud frowned into her bowl. “Why do you think they’d be dressed up?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Enid said, shrugging.

Mildred and Maud looked at each other, puzzled. After a moment, Maud shrugged and added a few more raisins before going back to her porridge.

Mildred looked back and forth between Enid, Maud, and Miss Hardbroom. “Maybe it’s not so obvious?”

“They went on a date?” Enid said, looking down at them as if she were peering out over the top Miss Cackle’s bifocals.  Maud and Mildred’s heads whipped back around to stare at them again. “Stop looking! You’re so obvious!”

Cutting her eyes to the side without turning her head, Mildred tried to observe the staff table. Miss Pentangle was talking animatedly to Miss Drill, hands flying in the air as she described what looked to be a broomstick routine. Miss Hardbroom was focused intently on buttering her toast. Her expression seemed more sour than usual.

“I don’t think so, Enid.” Maud said, matter-of-factly. “They don’t even like each other. You’ve seen how awkward they are. They’re like two cats who want the same bit of sun shining through a window.”

Mildred wasn’t sure she agreed with Maud, but didn’t know if she should say anything. Miss Pentangle hadn’t told her she couldn’t tell Enid and Maud about what she’d said, but… Mildred watched Miss Hardbroom, still focused on her toast, until she stopped and glanced over at Miss Pentangle. Her whole expression changed, Mildred thought. She didn’t look sour anymore, she looked…like she liked Miss Pentangle - a lot. And she looked a little bit sad. The silence hanging between her friends pulled her attention back to their table. Maud and Enid were both looking at her, expecting her to be the tie-breaking opinion. “I think…maybe? They went to school together. Miss Pentangle told me that.”

“See?” Enid crowed.

“Just because they were schoolmates doesn’t mean they like each other that way,” Maud insisted. “We go to school together and I don’t like you.” Enid pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at Maud.

“Hmmm… I guess we’ll just have to test that theory, won’t we?”

“Oh, no, Enid, what are you thinking?” Mildred glanced at the teacher table again. Miss Hardbroom looked decidedly happier now. Miss Pentangle was leaning over and talking to her.

“Well, it is nearly Yule, isn’t it?” She swallowed the last of her porridge. “Come on, you lot, we’ve got a spell to find.”

****

“Green and bright with berries white, Viscum album veniat.” Enid stood back, staring expectantly at the ceiling outside the potions lab. “I hope it works without the rest of the spell.” As they watched, a green stem spouted from the ceiling, growing and branching until a large sprig of mistletoe, complete with white berries and red bow, hung in the middle of the hallway.  “It’s in the right spot, anyway.”

“It works for Ordinary people without any spells,” Mildred said firmly. “We aren’t doing any spell that forces them into something.” Though they’d been gone, the girls had heard all about ‘Miss Softbroom’ when they came back with Miss Cackle. Mildred laughed along with everyone else when she heard the stories, but later that night, alone in her hutch, she kept seeing Miss Hardbroom’s face in her mind. She’d looked…different. Obviously, she was upset about Miss Cackle, but… that wasn’t all of it, Mildred was sure. For the next several days, Miss Hardbroom would go quiet and still whenever a group of girls would laugh, like the girls were laughing at her, even though Mildred knew that wasn’t true. How that made her act even more… Miss Hardbroomish.

Only days later, she herself had been partly responsible for drugging Miss Hardbroom and the rest of teachers. Again, for days after, Miss Hardbroom hadn’t seemed herself. And much to Mildred’s surprise, she found she preferred the stern and forceful Miss Hardbroom to the unsure and unsteady one.

That’s why, when they saw the spell could be worked so that anyone under the mistletoe wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to kiss, Mildred had insisted they leave it off. Thankfully, both Enid and Maud had readily agreed.

“I hear something,” Maud whispered, pulling Mildred and Enid around the corner out of sight. “Even with the mistletoe, they won’t kiss if they see us here.”

The door to the potions lab opened, and Miss Pentangle stepped into the hallway, looking very un-Miss Pentangle-like in a pair of black yoga pants and a purple sweater. Mildred wondered if the clothes belonged to Miss Hardbroom.

“I’ll meet you in the Dining Hall at noon, Hiccup. That should give me just enough time to check in at Pentangle’s, and you enough time here.” She started to close the door before turning back around. “Don’t forget, noon.” Without another word, Miss Pentangle swept down the hallway with only the barest glance at the mistletoe.

The girls stepped back into the hallway. “Well, that didn’t work,” Maud said, rather unhelpfully.

Mildred rolled her eyes. “Thanks, we hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s not all bad, though.” Enid eyed the mistletoe. “We know when they’re going to lunch. We’ll just put up more on the way to the Dining Hall.

The girls spun around at the sound of Miss Cackle’s voice, carrying down the corridor. “Well met, girls!” Pendle wove around Miss Cackle’s ankles before presenting himself to the girls for petting. After a moment, he turned and looked up at Miss Cackle, meowing plaintively. “Now, now, Pendle, you’ve just had your breakfast.” The cat mwarped at her, staring up at the mistletoe. “What’s that?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, I see…someone’s already begun the holiday decorating. Miss Drill, no doubt.” She scooped her familiar up and cradled him against her shoulder. “Are you the handsome fellow under the mistletoe?” She smooched Pendle playfully on the top of his head. “There you go,” she placed him gently back on the floor. “Off you go, then.” She turned to the girls. “Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, girls.”

They watched Miss Cackle until she disappeared down the corridor, jumping when the door to the Potions Lab opened. “Is there a reason you are loitering outside my lab.”

“No, Miss Hardbroom” the girls answered in unison, before scurrying off in the other direction.

****

“Are you sure this is the best spot?” Maud looked skeptical. The entrance to the Dining Hall wasn’t crowded at noon. Most of the girls slept in on Sundays and took breakfast late, skipping lunch or eating at the very end of the lunch period. Even so, the corridor was only mostly empty.

“We can’t exactly poof it into the middle of the Dining Hall,” Enid muttered. “Everyone will know we did it. At least right now Miss Cackle thinks it’s just Miss Drill decorating.”

“Not to mention Miss Hardbroom would never kiss Miss Pentangle in the middle of the Dining Hall,” Mildred added.

“Hullo, Tadpole!” The girls spun around as Miss Bat and Mr. Rowan-Webb walked towards them. “He-hee!” He clapped his hands together. “What do we have here? A bit of holiday romance?”

The hard tap of Miss Hardbroom’s shoes announced her impending arrival. “Did I hear you say romance, Mr. Rowan-Webb. I rather expect we’ve had more than enough of that, lately.” She glanced up at the mistletoe. “Where did that…pernicious parasite…come from?”

Miss Pentangle swept around the corner, still wearing the yoga pants and purple sweater. “What parasite are –” She followed everyone’s eyes to the ceiling. “Ooooh…. Mistletoe! Lovely! One of the best traditions from the Ordinaries!” She winked at Hecate. “Pernicious parasite? Really, Hic- Hecate. Where’s your sense of romance?” With that, Miss Pentangle swung the door open and ushered Miss Hardbroom inside.

Enid blew a great, frustrated breath out as they disappeared, doggedly ignoring Maud’s sing-song ‘I told you so.’

“Shall we join them, my dear?” Mr. Rowan-Webb held his arm out, waiting for Miss Bat to take it. As soon as she did, he swung her under the mistletoe and gave her a lingering kiss. “Shall we, my dear?” he asked, winking at the girls as he swept her in to lunch.

“Well, that’s that,” Maud pouted. “If they meant to kiss each other, they would have.”

“Nah…,” Enid shrugged, “we were still here.”

“True, but…you heard Miss Hardbroom. She called it a parasite.”

Mildred wasn’t sure that she agreed with Maud. It’s true, she thought, that Miss Hardbroom had acted like she didn’t like it… but… If she really meant that, then why did her cheeks get red when Miss Pentangle asked her where her sense of romance was? Maybe this was a bad idea…

****

“How would I know where they’re going next?” Maud snapped. “This isn’t working at all. They don’t like each other like that.” She flounced onto the bench under the stairs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you.”

“You don’t know that!” Enid turned to Mildred. “What do you think, Millie?”

Mildred wandered over to the window overlooking the courtyard. A flash of pink caught her eye, and she leaned over to get a better look. “I think it doesn’t matter because Miss Pentangle is going home.”

“What?”

“No…”

The girls rushed to the window, squeezing in beside Mildred. “Shhh… what are you doing? They’re saying goodbye.” She tried to back out of the window, but they pressed her in tight.

“I know,” Enid half-whispered. “That’s what I want to see.” Maud nodded her agreement.

Giving in, Mildred leaned back out the window.

Miss Pentangle, back in her signature pink outfit, summoned her broom to her hand. “Thank you for letting me crash your weekend, Hiccup. I hope you had a good time?”

Miss Hardbroom ducked her head, and Mildred thought she saw the blush rising on her cheeks again. The girls had to strain to hear her. “I… I did… it was… good.”

Miss Pentangle beamed. “It was, wasn’t it, darling.” She stepped closer to Miss Hardbroom, who was still looking down. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, as well. May I?” She waited for Miss Hardbroom to nod.

And then…

Then Miss Pentangle did something that made their hearts stop. She looked straight up at them. And she winked. Then she leaned in and kissed Miss Hardbroom firmly on the cheek. When she stepped back, Miss Hardbroom seemed to follow her, trance-like. Miss Pentangle held her by her elbow until she steadied. “I’ll send a maglet message when I get home. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow night, but I’ll definitely see you Thursday, just like we talked about.” She waited for Hecate to nod before mounting her broom and heading out towards Pentangle’s.

As quietly as possible, the girls slipped back inside the window. “I told you!” Enid crowed, dancing around the corridor. “Did you see that?”

Maud still looked skeptical. “But… that wasn’t any different than when Miss Pentangle left last time.”

Mildred frowned. It didn’t look different, no… but… somehow… she thought it just might be.


	4. Gold and Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for the annual Witching Academy Network Holiday Mixer. Hecate attends, but she still isn’t herself after the events of the fall. Her friends are there to support her, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Hecate is still struggling with the effects of the personality changing potion and the love potion. Dimity and Pippa try to help.
> 
> The title of this chapter comes from the song by Sugarland
> 
> Thanks to Sparky for proofing my work. Any errors are my own and likely due to the fact that state testing was going on this week and it was driving us all mad.

Colorful streams of music floated through the air, looping and swirling through the twinkling lights and sprigs of greenery. The Witching Academy Network had outdone themselves this year, Ada thought, sipping her second glass of champagne. The Magic Council’s building had been decorated from rugs to rafters for the holidays. Evergreen boughs and amaryllis stood in brilliant splendor throughout the hall while thousands of fairy lights twinkled. Ada glanced at her deputy. Hecate stood beside her, perhaps a bit closer than normal, her customary rigid posture looking even more elegant than usual in a body skimming cream-colored dress overlayed in antique gold lace.  Ada knew she was feeling anything but elegant, though. Hecate’s hands were pressed against her thighs and her thumbs rubbed against each fingertip in turn. Ada swallowed a sigh with her next mouthful of champagne. “It’s just a party, Hecate – one we attend every year. I know things have been…difficult lately, but we’ve come through it. You could try to look a bit less like you’ve just licked a toad.”

Hecate forced her hands to be still. She knew she was being…difficult. She knew she should be able to move past everything that had happened in the last few weeks. She just… “I assure you,” she sniffed, “if offered the choice between the party and the toad…”

A burst of raucous laughter pulled their attention to the champagne fountain floating in the center of the ballroom. Ada was not the least bit surprised to find Dimity Drill in the midst of things. She glanced over to see Hecate scowling at the rambunctious crowd. Ada elbowed her gently in the side. “It’s what people are meant to do at parties, my dear. Even work parties.” Ada watched as Hecate visibly tried to force her body into a more relaxed posture. Perhaps it had been a mistake to insist that her Deputy join the rest of Cackle’s staff at the Witching Academy Network’s annual holiday mixer. She’d truly thought that Hecate would appreciate the normalcy. After all, they’d been attending this event for years. Hecate had even enjoyed herself last year.

But this wasn’t last year, Ada reminded herself. She watched as Hecate turned down yet another waiter’s offer of a glass of champagne. Last year, Hecate hadn’t been drugged. Twice. Last year, she hadn’t lost her magic and been frozen in a magical black spot. Draining her drink, Ada searched the crowd, looking for a certain shade of pink. She wasn’t too proud to admit that reinforcements were needed.

“Oi! HB!” Dimity bounded up to them, overly exuberant and already flushed with champagne. “It’s a party, Hecate, not a funeral. You don’t even have a drink!” Dimity stopped a waiter carrying a box of bottles to refresh the champagne fountain. She pulled an unopened bottle from the box. “Oh…impressive,” she said, checking the label. “This is a nice one.” She summoned a pair of champagne flutes, pressing them both into Hecate’s hands before making a dramatic show of breaking the foil, removing the wire cage and popping the cork. “We’ll share our own bottle, aye?” Dimity winked at Ada, who smiled back gratefully.

Dimity topped off Ada before filling her own flute, then Hecate’s. “Here you go, HB. Pristine.” She waited for Hecate to drink, but the older woman simply stared at the glass with narrowed eyes. Dimity glanced at Ada before sighing and leaning in to Hecate. Speaking so quietly that Ada had to strain to hear her, Dimity said, “It’s all right, Hecate. Nothing has been done to it. I’m not going to let anything happen to you on my watch.”

Hecate’s face remained inscrutable, and for a moment Ada wasn’t sure which way she would go. Then Ada saw the set of Hecate’s shoulders ease, just a bit, as she nodded. Ada released a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.

“Cheers, then, Dimity.” Hecate sniffed the champagne, nose wrinkling as the bubbles tickled. Suddenly, she tossed back the contents of the glass. “Thank you.” She held the flute out for Dimity to fill again.

They all turned at the chorus of greetings at the door. Ada almost sagged in relief. There stood Pippa Pentangle – not in her signature pink. Instead, Pippa wore an elegant, emerald gown, trimmed in velvet. She stood at the top of the stairs, scanning the crowd intently, making only the barest effort to greet the crowd that immediately flocked to her.

Ada could see the instant Pippa spotted Hecate. Her entire being lit up like a Yule log. Sneaking a peek at Hecate, Ada could see that she’d lit up as well.

Ada watched as Pippa made her way over, cutting through the crowd like a scythe, never stopping – no matter who tried to claim her attention. Finally, she was standing in front of Hecate.

“Hi, there,” she said, smiling broadly. “I was hoping you would decide to come. Now tonight won’t be nearly so dreadful.”

“Hello.” Hecate blushed and sipped at her drink.

Again, Dimity came to the rescue, offering Pippa a drink before things could become awkward.

Pippa accepted the glass with gusto. “Well met, indeed, Miss Drill. And you Ada.” She held up her glass. “To good friends, together for the holidays.”

“To good friends,” they said, clinking their glasses together.

“Now,” Pippa said, once she’d swallowed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She held an arm out for Hecate to take. “Let’s go get something to eat, darling. Would you share with me?”

A grateful smile flickered across Hecate’s face as she threaded her arm through Pippa’s. “I’d love to, Pipsqueak. I’d love to share with you.”

Ada and Dimity watched them as they made their way to the buffet. Eyes twinkling, Ada clinked her glass against Dimity’s. “Thank you, Miss Drill. Well done.”

“No need, Miss Cackle,” Dimity grinned, calling over her shoulder as she headed for the champagne fountain. “I can’t exactly twist her knickers if she isn’t herself, now, can I?”

 


	5. Marshmallow World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staff at Cackle's is a little the worse for wear after the Witching Academy Network’s Holiday Mixer, but it doesn’t stop Ada and Hecate from lending a hand when Dimity finds herself in the middle of a biscuit crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s installment is named for the song by Dean Martin. I’d never heard of it before today. Reading the lyrics, I can kind of see why.
> 
> I’d like to give a special thanks to @pippa-pentangle for her helpful lesson on the subtleties of biscuits vs. cookies. In case any of you are interested in seeing the recipes for today’s selections, they came from this site: www.goodhousekeeping.com/uk/christmas/christmas-recipes/g570722/easy-christmas-cookies-biscuits-recipes/
> 
> As ever, I owe Sparky for her time and talent.

Dimity bounded into Ada’s office, sending the door crashing into the stone wall with a nerve-jarring ‘crack!’  Ada’s head shot up from her expense reports - too quickly, considering the spike of pain that shot through her brain, just behind her eyes. Once inside, Dimity sagged against the door, looking even worse than Ada felt – hair uneven, red-rimmed eyes, and gray, clammy-looking skin. Ada cast a furtive glance at Hecate, who looked as poised and unruffled as ever. Of course, Ada thought, Hecate had not indulged in the champagne fountain at the Witching Academy Network’s holiday party to quite the same level as the rest of them.

Hecate caught her looking and merely quirked an eyebrow. Ada cursed silently, knowing she shouldn’t press her luck by asking for another vial of Over-Indulgence potion to help with her hangover.

Dimity collapsed into one of the chairs in front of Ada’s fireplace. “Why do they insist on holding that party on a Monday?” Bleary eyes pleaded with Hecate. “It’s completely unfair.”

Hecate held Dimity’s gaze evenly. “A witch knows her limits, Miss Drill.”

“Hecate?” Ada couldn’t manage a stern expression, but she did manage to work in the lift in at the end of Hecate’s name to let her know she needed to be charitable.

Sighing heavily, Hecate summoned a pair of small vials, handing one to Dimity and the second to Ada. “Is this all you needed? Or are you here on actual school business?”

“I’m here to throw myself on your mercy. I have a biscuit crisis.” Dimity summoned her maglet, blinking heavily as she tried to read the messages out loud. After listening to Dimity struggle for several long, unsuccessful moments, Hecate finally lost patience, and whisked the maglet from Dimity’s hands and and read the message herself.

Dimity watched Hecate reading, scowl gradually giving way to round eyes and arched eyebrows. “Your mother needs…THIRTY-TWO DOZEN BISCUITS? Of eight different kinds? Non-magically produced?” Hecate calculated the sheer volume of biscuits that would be. “She needs this t-t-tomorrow? And she just now let you know?”

“Well,” Dimity drawled, rubbing her temples with her thumbs, “the message may have come yesterday before the party.” After a moment’s hesitation, Dimity downed the vial, grimacing at the taste. “Mum couldn’t exactly plan on me Gran coming down with the Witch Pox at her age, but once the nephew had it…”

Pursing her lips, Hecate read through the message again before passing the maglet to Ada. “Oh, dear. I can try to get someone to cover your classes, but…”

“Everyone is barely covering their own today,” Dimity finished for her. “I wish I’d seen the message sooner.” She sighed in relief as the potion began to take effect and her headache receded to a more manageable level.

“I’ll help you,” Hecate said, surprising all three of them. “Your mother was always very kind to me. We can begin as soon as Miss Tapioca clears the kitchen after dinner.”

“Are you sure?” Dimity sniffed the vial in her hands. HB hadn’t slipped her a hallucination potion, had she?

“Don’t make me regret the offer, Miss Drill.”

Before she could stop herself, Dimity blurted out, “B-but... Can you cook?”

Hecate stood even straighter. “Of course, I can cook,” she sniffed. “How would that be any different than potion making?”

“It’s baking… It’s precise…” Dimity sputtered. Behind her, Ada made a choking sound. An arched eyebrow was Hecate’s only response.

Ada sat up straighter, the effects of her second vial of Over-Indulgence Potion finally banishing the last remnants of her hangover. “I don’t know the first thing about baking, but I’m delighted to help.”

Hecate turned an arched brow on her headmistress. “If you can read, you can cook, Ada.”

****

“You most certainly may not,” Miss Tapioca insisted, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ve just finished clearing up, haven’t I? I won’t have you lot coming in and mucking it up again!”

Hecate made a show of examining the kitchen – cleared away, but still uncomfortably grimy around the edges. “I assure you, we will leave the kitchen in more than satisfactory condition, Grace.” Hecate forced her expression to remain neutral. A less aptly named person she had never met.

“Don’t ‘Grace’ me, Hecate Hardbroom. I told you –”

“Ah! Well met, Miss Tapioca!” Ada called, marching into the kitchen with a sack full of groceries in her arms. Dimity followed behind, guiding a caravan of floating grocery sacks that trailed along behind her. “I see Miss Hardbroom is explaining that we need to borrow your…” Ada glanced around, swallowing convulsively. “Your lovely kitchen.”

Cocking her head to the side, Hecate smiled smugly. “I was just explaining our situation, Miss Cackle.” She refused to acknowledge the narrowed eyes boring into her.

“I reckon I’ll just leave you to it then, won’t I?” Miss Tapioca scooped her seedy romance novel off the counter and stomped away, muttering about presumptuous witches and interlopers.

“Very well then,” Hecate said, silently casting a cleaning spell over the whole kitchen – not once, but twice. “Better.” She waited until Dimity had magicked the groceries out of their bags before summoning the maglet with the list of biscuits they needed to make. Studying the list, she divided the biscuits into three categories: easy, medium, and do-it-herself. “You have the actual recipes, yes?” Hecate was surprised when Dimity summoned a stack of well-worn and stained recipe cards. She’d rather expected them to be on the maglet.

“Me mum’s going to ask for the cards back straight away, so…”

“Handle with care. Got it,” Ada supplied.

“May I?” Hecate held her hand out for the cards. Dimity carefully handed them over, and Hecate scanned the recipes before selecting a card and handing it to Ada. “Why don’t you make the stained-glass biscuits?”

Ada clapped her hands and took the card. “I love those. They’re so pretty!” She bustled away and began gathering her ingredients.

Hecate handed Dimity the card for red velvet snowflake biscuits and kept the one for Christmas spritz biscuits for herself. Piping the dough would require precision, she thought, looking forward to it. In a few minutes the three witches were busily baking biscuits.

****

Hecate had just finished piping the dough for her fourth perfect fir tree when the soft voice of Bing Crosby filled the room.

“It was too quiet,” Dimity explained. “We needed some mood music.”

Hecate opened her mouth to protest but snapped it shut as Ada started singing along. Rolling her eyes at Dimity’s cheeky grin, she piped another perfectly proportioned, symmetrical tree. Admiring her handiwork, Hecate brushed a stray wisp of hair off her cheek with the back of her hand. She looked up sharply when she heard Dimity giggle.  “What could possibly be so amusing?”

“Nothing, HB, nothing at all,” Dimity said, stifling a snicker.

“I’m sure your limited attention span would be better spent focused on the snowflake biscuits,” Hecate muttered.

“Obviously,” she grinned. “But I’ve done with that lot. I’m starting the gingerbread wreath now.” She waved her hands and chanted a quick cleaning spell to clear away the mess before measuring flour into the mixing bowl for her next batch of biscuits. “So, tell me, HB, have you haunted any good opera houses lately?”

Ada glanced over, frowning. “Any good opera hou-  OH!” She tore her eyes away and went back to concentrating very hard on spooning crushed candies into the cutouts in the middle of her biscuits.

“WHAT?” Hecate barked. Dimity snorted and hid behind the stand mixer. Hecate was about to unleash a scathing comment when she noticed the faint smear of flour on the back of her hand. Suddenly, she knew what.

Ada summoned a small hand mirror and floated it in front of Hecate, before heading into the pantry in search of vanilla. She hardly needed to look to know, but, like a five-broom pileup in an acrobatic broomstick display, she couldn’t look away. Scowling back at her was the Hecate Hardbroom version of the Phantom of the Opera; a solid white streak of flour covered half her face. She refused to think about how long it had been since she’d used the flour. Across the kitchen, Dimity’s giggles deepened into full-on laughter.

Two glowing red eyes later and the mixer Dimity was filling whirred to life, covering her in flour. “Oi!” She sputtered, coughing and rubbing her eyes. “Oh…it’s on now Hardbroom!”

Hecate smirked and floated her tray of spritz biscuits into the oven, setting the timer before magicking away the mess from her first batch. Checking the list again, she decided to leave the lemon and cranberry shortbreads for Ada and work on the Cauldron’s Kisses.

At the ingredients table, Hecate read through the recipe and absently reached for the bag of sugar, looking up in surprise when her fingers closed around thin air. It was gone. Scanning the table, she spotted it at the far end. Frowning, she reached for the flour. Again, it disappeared. Her eyes cut immediately to Dimity, but the younger witch appeared oblivious, still trying to brush the flour from her robes. Hecate shook her head in dismay. Why didn’t she use a cleaning spell?

Lips pressed in a thin line, Hecate reached for the bottle of cream sherry. It also disappeared just as her fingers seemed to close around the bottle. Now that is infuriating, she thought. She set her sights on the jars of fruit preserves, slowly reaching for the raspberry jam before making a last-minute grab for the blackcurrant conserves. She missed, sending a bag of almonds flying across the room.

This time, Dimity couldn’t feign disinterest and choked back her laughter.

Hecate flicked her wrist and the hand-held sprayer next to the sink rose up like a cobra, swaying slowly to its own music – ready to strike.

“Don’t you dare… Hecate…. Come on now.” Dimity held up her hands and two swirling clouds of flour gathered above her palm. Without warning, a jet of icy water sprayed across Dimity’s backside, sending her screeching behind the table, wildly flinging her hands out from her side.

The commotion brought Ada out of the pantry – and straight into the line of fire.  She caught both the water and the flour full on, turning her into something akin to a papier-mache yeti.

Hecate and Dimity froze, like naughty school girls, as Ada’s stunned eyes came up to meet them.

“Miss Cackle…” Dimity began, taking a step towards her headmistress, hands outstretched in supplication.

Hecate could only stare, jaw working furiously, as the sticky white goop proclaimed her guilt louder than any megaphone could. Her heart jerked in her chest, and it felt like she’d swallowed a sandpaper-covered brick. This was not how this was meant to go, she thought, feeling a sudden kinship with Mildred Hubble.

Slowly, Ada waved her hands over her body, letting the cleaning spell remove the…goop. It didn’t get all of it. Dimity and Hecate exchanged winces. That was not a good omen.

“I’m soooo sorry, Miss Cackle!” Dimity moved to help but stopped cold when Ada raised a hand and began murmuring quietly to herself.

“Ada… you know it was an accident…” Hecate couldn’t help herself; she took a nervous step back.

The murmuring grew louder, obviously a chant. Dimity edged closer to Hecate. Ada lifted her hands from her sides; and as she did, every scrap of paper, every cup towel, every apron hanging on its hook shot up towards the ceiling.

Craning their necks to see, Dimity and Hecate stared as the collection writhed overhead, swirling and curling into itself as each item folded itself into an elaborate, origami-style bird.

“Oh, noo…” Dimity groaned, immediately recognizing what was about to happen.

“What!” Hecate’s eyes ping-ponged back and forth from Dimity to the ‘birds.’

At once the ‘birds’ attacked, swooping down on them, sending both Hecate and Dimity diving for cover under one of Miss Tapioca’s big prep tables. Dimity tried to use magic to shoot them out of the air but only succeeded in hitting one, catching it on fire while it continued careening about the room like a phoenix.

An apron, wings flapping like an albatross, flew under the table, slapping both Hecate and Dimity with the apron strings as it passed. Dimity started to giggle.

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN MY KITCHEN?” Miss Tapioca’s unmistakable voice carried over all the commotion. In an instant the cup towels and aprons crashed to the floor, the napkins and other papers drifting down after.

Hecate and Dimity scrambled out from under the table to stand with Ada. Or, rather, right behind Ada.  “Miss Tapioca!” Ada called, smiling like she’d just run into a long-lost school chum. “How can we help you?”

“Help me? Look at what you’ve done to my bloody kitchen! I knew I –”

Ada cut her off with a gentle wave of her hands. “It will all be taken care of, Miss Tapioca, I assure you.” It took some persuading and the promise that Ada would make an extra batch of speculaas biscuit sandwiches. Finally, Miss Tapioca relented, leaving them to clean up the mess.

Dusty from the flour with hair wild from dodging Ada’s magic air squadron, Dimity and Hecate waited for Ada’s impending reprimand. It never came. Instead, as soon as the door closed behind the cook, Ada threw back her head and howled with laughter – aching belly, tears-streaming guffaws. A few nervous seconds later and Dimity joined in. Watching them, even Hecate couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle.

Hours later, the kitchen had been returned to better-than-they-found-it status and a veritable mountain of biscuit boxes sat stacked on the counter. Ada had just left with a tray of the biscuit sandwiches for Miss Tapioca when Dimity sidled up next to Hecate.

“I thought we’d finished all the biscuits?” She leaned over and looked at the pink and white spiral biscuits that Hecate was carefully stacking into a holiday tin. “I don’t recall seeing pink in any of the recipes. I think those peppermint biscuits are meant to be red.”

Hecate could feel the warmth of color blossoming on her cheeks. She pursed her lips, silently cursing that infernal Dimity and her doubly infernal cheek. “I didn’t use peppermint. These are strawberry.”

“I see…” she said, reaching for one of the biscuits, laughing as Hecate slapped her hand with the spatula. “Now I wonder who you’re so keen on getting those biscuits to?  Hmmm…. Who do I know that might like strawberries? And likes every shade of pink known to witching kind?” She turned around, leaning her hips on the counter, making it abundantly clear that she wasn’t about to leave Hecate to finish up in peace.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Hecate said, stiffly. She scooped the next biscuit a bit too roughly, snapping it in half. Dimity snatched half away before Hecate could stop her, popping it immediately, warm and perfect, into her mouth.

“Mmmmm…HB… She’s going to love these.” Dimity picked up the other half, nibbling at it, savoring it.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to…” she trailed off, planting her hands on the counter. Hecate leaned over, breathing in and out to the count of five. “Do you think she will? I don’t know.”

Dimity gently bumped their shoulders together. “She will, Hecate. Even if they were terrible – which they aren’t – she’d still love them. Because you were thinking of her enough to make them. It’s nice to have a friend who will make you biscuits. Just as nice as it is to have a friend to make biscuits with.” She jerked her chin towards the mountain of finished biscuits. “Thank you for this. We both know you didn’t have to do it.”

“You helped me last night, Dimity.” Hecate went back to placing the biscuits in the tin, more carefully this time. “It’s been…hard… letting go of everything that’s happened. I think it’s making me even more rigid than I usually am.”

“You didn’t look rigid tonight, HB. You looked like you had fun. I know I had fun with you. I still can’t believe Miss Cackle went all Alfred Hitchcock on us with the kitchen linens,” she said, shaking her head. “That was some good magic.” She shoved off the counter and magicked the biscuits for her mother away. “You’re going to be okay, Hecate. Everything that’s happened shouldn’t be so easy to shake off. Just remember that you’ve got friends. Friends you can talk to. Over a plate of cookies.” She grabbed a cup towel and popped Hecate lightly on the backside. “See you tomorrow, HB. Give Pentangle my regards.”

****

When she opened her office the next morning, the first thing Dimity noticed was the smell: warm, rich and chocolatey. Stepping further inside, she found the source of the aroma sitting squarely in the middle of her much-tidier-than-she-left-it desk: a plate of biscuits. No, she thought, that’s a bloody platter piled high with biscuits. She stepped forward to get a better look. Rather than a red or pink spiral, these biscuits were a spiral of chocolate and… she leaned over to get a better whiff… almond. Chocolate and almond spiral biscuits. She picked up the folded piece of paper next to it.

“Whenever you need to talk to a friend, just eat these instead.”

It wasn’t signed, but then, it didn’t have to be. “HB, you dodgy old crone, you just think nobody knows you’re really a marshmallow underneath.”


	6. Hard Candy Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie Hubble knows what Mildred owes a lot to Marigold Mould - and she knows the price Miss Mould paid. So she decides to see how Millie's former art teacher is adjusting to life in the Ordinary world. Along the way she gets a bit of insight into Mildred, Hecate Hardbroom and enjoys a fabulous milkshake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title, Hard Candy Christmas, is by Dolly Parton, of course. So much to love in The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.
> 
> Once again, Sparky did her best to save me from my own deranged use of commas and semicolons.

“Can I get one by the window, love? I’m meeting a friend.” Julie smiled and followed the hostess to a table by the window. She slung her bag over the back of the chair and settled into the café table, making sure to keep one eye on the door. She folded, smoothed and refolded a paper napkin, knee bouncing under the table. She sniffed the red carnation sprouting from the glass vase in the middle of the table. She read and reread the menu. She checked the time on her phone; she still had twelve minutes before she was supposed to meet Miss Mould at one.

Eight minutes before the hour Julie spotted a colorful coat winding through the holiday crowds filling the sidewalk. Keeping an eye on the swirling blues and greens, Julie watched the witch approaching, slowly, eyes moving back and forth between the storefronts and a piece of paper clutched in her hand. She paused on the sidewalk in front of the café, double and triple checking the address. Julie rapped her knuckles against the window, finally catching Miss Mould’s attention and waving the witch inside.

Marigold pushed the door open and rushed to the table, looking relieved. “Ms. Hubble!” Julie stood and they awkwardly flipped between missed hugs and missed handshakes, neither doing the same thing at the same time.

“Sit down, love!” Julie pulled a chair out for Marigold and shoved the menu into her hands. “I’m bloody starving.” She plunked back into her own seat and took up the menu again. “What would you like to drink? They’ve got a lovely cuppa. And if you’re feeling indulgent, they make a fabulous Black Forest milkshake – chocolate and cherries.” They slipped into silence as each woman studied her options.

After a few minutes, Marigold closed the menu, nervously rubbing her fingers over the cover. “I think just a cup of the tomato bisque for me.”

Julie looked up, stunned. “Tomato? What? You’ll do no such thing, love!” She reached across and opened Marigold’s menu back up. “I didn’t ask you to lunch for you to skimp on a bit of soup. Order what you’d like. It’s my treat.”

“You don’t have to –”

“I know.” Julie covered one of Marigold’s hands with her own. “But I want to. You’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t get at least a double cheeseburger with chips. The brie burger is to die for, it’s me regular.”

Marigold’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she nodded anyway. “Thank you, Ms. Hubble.”

“And if you don’t start calling me Julie, I swear I’ll order the most expensive things on the menu and then do a runner,” she said, winking.

“Julie, then. Thank you, Julie.” She smiled shyly and went back to studying the menu.

The waitress came and went. True to her word, Julie ordered the brie burger with a large side of chips. Marigold opted for the chicken and avocado sandwich with a cup of the tomato bisque instead of chips or crisps.

“How are things with the…Council?” Julie asked, glancing furtively around. “How do things stand for you?”

Marigold glanced around the café. A cheerful boisterousness filled the space as guests chatted and laughed with each other. No one paid them any mind whatsoever. “I guess the Council is more or less finished with me. They kept me in…” her voice caught, and she swallowed hard before she could go on. “They kept me in custody for thirty days. I think they were trying to decide what to do with me. If I had my powers, they would have been confiscated for a period of time. Not life.” The waitress swept by, depositing a pot of tea and two mugs. She turned her attention to preparing her tea.

Julie poured her own tea, frowning as she tried to work out the best way to say what she wanted to say. “I don’t understand why they needed to punish you at all, Marigold. You weren’t responsible.”

Marigold’s mug clattered onto the table. “How can you, of all people, say that? I nearly cost your own daughter her magic. Girls were hurt because of me.”

Carefully, Julie placed her spoon on the tabletop. “What – exactly – did you do? From what Mildred said, Ethel Hallow stole the Founding Stone. Ethel Hallow created a duplicate one to put on display. Ethel Hallow tricked her sister into taking the Stone’s power causing,” she looked around, leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper, “causing a magical black spot.” She leaned back in her chair. “As far as I can tell, you had a moment of weakness. You didn’t tell them where the stone was, but you didn’t know anyone was still in the castle. You almost cost my daughter, Maud, Enid and Felicity everything. You almost cost Hardbroom and Miss Cackle everything. But when it came down to the wire, Marigold, you did the right thing. You made a great sacrifice. And I’m grateful to you for it. My daughter is whole, thanks to you. So are the rest. Cackle’s still stands.”

“You sound like Miss Hardbroom,” Marigold sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Hardbroom? The one with the broomstick shoved –” she finished the sentence with a rather graphic gesture.

“That very one. She actually…” Marigold dabbed at her eyes again. “She actually spoke to the Mag— Council on my behalf. Quite forcefully, I must say. I didn’t expect her to do that. Miss Cackle and Miss Drill were also there. That’s why it was only thirty days and… and…” She took a steadying breath and a bracing gulp of tea. “Exile into the Ordinary world. Though… I suppose I’m not really exiled. I just don’t belong in the witch— I don’t belong there anymore.”

“I don’t either, love. And I’m going just fine.” The waitress approached, and Julie slid her mug to the side to make room for their meal, letting the conversation lapse into something almost like companionable silence as they ate.  “Mmph!” Julie chewed her burger and swallowed. “I meant to ask you if you found a flat yet?”

Shaking her head no, Marigold set her sandwich back down without taking a bite. “It’s getting’ a bit dodgy on that front, as well. The Council put me in sort of a part-time lodging when they released me, but I’m only meant to stay there for another week. I don’t even know how to fill out the forms for an apartment. Or to find a job. I have some money saved from Cackle’s but… It won’t last long and my family isn’t exactly keen on helping out, now that I’m the black sheep.”

“I know a bit about that. Me mum wasn’t exactly thrilled when I broke out the news I was up the duff over the Sunday ham.” She took another bite of her burger, savoring the earthy taste of the brie. “Why don’t you come ‘round for supper on Friday? We can take a look at those forms together, see if we can’t get you settled.”

“You really don’t have—” Marigold stopped herself when Julie looked like she was about to fling a chip across the table at her. “That’s very kind of you,” she corrected, quickly. “I’d love to.” She spooned out the last of her soup. “This is a far sight better than Tapioca’s soup, to be sure.”

“Oi, tell me about it. I have to go to Cackle’s for a brunch Sunday for the Spe—” she dropped her voice to a whisper. “For the Spell Science Fair. I can only imagine what she does with brunch,” she said wrinkling her nose.

“I don’t miss her cooking, that’s the truth.” She fussed with her napkin a bit before speaking. “I don’t suppose… since you’re going to be at Cackle’s anyway…” Marigold stared at her empty cup of soup as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Would you mind giving Dimity, I mean, Miss Drill my regards?”

Julie suppressed a grin, and the urge to tease, responding as casually as she could, “I would be happy to. If you’ve anything you’d like to send up the mountain, I’d be happy to take it.”

“I don’t. I don’t think,” she said quickly, pushing the last bit of her sandwich away. “Thank you. Speaking of things I’d like to send along…” Marigold twisted around in her chair and pulled her oversized bag into her lap, extracting a flat package wrapped in brown paper. “This is for you. To say thank you for being kind to me when you have every reason not to be.” She handed the parcel over to Julie.

“You didn’t need to bring me anything,” Julie said, tearing into the paper anyway. “Ohhh…. Marigold. This is lovely.” It was a brightly colored acrylic painting of what looked like Mildred, standing on the stage in the theatre, holding up the staff she’d carved herself. Above her, a myriad of objects floated, captured in a glowing blue haze of magic. “That’s supposed to be Millie?”

“It is. She really did that, stopped all the things that had escaped from Vanishment from hitting the Great—from hitting Hellibore. She was magnificent. She’s going to be very powerful someday.”

“I wish that old Miss Hardbroom thought so,” Julie muttered. “This really is lovely. I know just where I’m going to hang it.”

“Thank you.” For the first time, Marigold smiled a wide, true smile. “And Julie? Miss Hardbroom does think so. She knows so. I think that’s why she’s so hard on Mildred, why she’s so keen on her learning to control her… self.”

Julie thought about that for a moment. It would be nice if it were true. Sometimes she could almost believe that Hardbroom did care about her daughter. Mildred had somehow managed to remain fond of Miss Hardbroom. She’d have to think on that a bit, she decided. For now, though… “Nah…” she said, scrunching up her face. “I don’t buy it. But I do want to buy one of those Black Forest milkshakes. Care to share with me?”

“I think you’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse,” Marigold answered, flagging down the waitress.

 


	7. Merry Christmas Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it takes some ice to thaw a relationship that's been frozen for decades. Pippa invites Hecate to spend a holiday evening at a village celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Darling is a great old Carpenters song.
> 
> Thanks again to Sparky, who only mocked me a little for sending her the draft at 4am.

Pippa hesitated, hand poised just over Hecate’s door. She was second-guessing herself again. Or third, or fourth or tenth-guessing herself. She already had her hand raised to vanish the pink hold-all when the door flew open. “Hecate!” She stumbled back, startled. “I was just about to knock!”

Hecate smiled, eyes darting to the bag and back up to Pippa’s face. “Do come in,” she said, wincing.

“Don’t mind if I do, darling.” She swept past Hecate, squeezing her arm just above the elbow. Pippa dropped her hold-all onto Hecate’s sofa before unzipping her powder pink quilted jacket.

“You’re looking different tonight,” Hecate said, wincing again. “I mean… Ordinary clothes suit you, ughhhh…” Hecate turned away, huffing out a gust of breath. “I’m sorry… I’m trying to say that you look very nice tonight.”

Pippa grinned broadly. “Thank you, Hiccup.” She wanted to say more but knew she shouldn’t push. Hiccup was trying - she’d offered a compliment on Pippa’s outfit.

“May I get you something to drink? Tea? Or a glass of wine?” Hecate asked, her voice rising.

Pippa could see that Hecate was getting flustered. “Not just yet, darling. In fact, I was wondering if you might be willing to forego our chess game tonight? I thought –”

“Yes… that would be fine, you’re busy – especially this time of year. I understand if you need to cancel; I’m only sorry you didn’t save yourself the trip by mirroring.” Hecate’s voice, though pitched higher than usual, was steady. She couldn’t quite hide the gloss on her eyes, though she tried.

“No, Hiccup. Darling. You don’t understand at all.” Pippa laced her fingers through Hecate’s and pulled her over to sit on the sofa. Holding Hecate’s eyes with her own, Pippa waited until she knew that Hecate was listening to her. “I don’t want to cancel our evening. Not at all.” She let that sink in until Hecate nodded. “I was just rather hoping you might consider a different activity.” She released Hecate’s hand and unzipped her hold-all, pulling out two pairs of ice skates, one pink, the other black. “I had such a good time when we went in to town the other night, so I looked up the goings-on in some of the other villages in the area. There’s a Holiday in the Park that starts tonight in Foxmoor Glen. There’s to be carolers, a tree-lighting and an ice-skating rink. What do you say, Hiccup? Would you like to go? It’s all right if you’d rather stay in and play chess. As long as we’re together, I’m pleased.”

Pippa could see Hecate mulling it over. She tried not to look too eager; after all, if Hecate didn’t actually want to go, she didn’t want to force her. Neither would have an enjoyable evening. Finally, Hecate nodded. “I think that would be quite pleasant.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’d love to,” she tried again.

“Brilliant! Let’s find you some proper skating clothes, then.”

****

“Are you ready?” Pippa asked, double-knotting the lace of her skate. Done, she stood, balancing on the blades and letting her ankles get used to the wobble. “I don’t remember the last time I went skating. Maybe that time we went into town our fifth year?” She watched as Hecate finished tying her own skates, admiring the way she looked in smart black t

“That’s the last time for me, I’m sure,” Hecate said, drily. She pushed herself off the bench, testing her balance on the blades. “Are you sure you don’t want me to charm the skates to keep us from falling?”

Pippa’s laugh rivaled the tinkling of the sleigh bells jingling on the horse-drawn carriage nearby. “That’s half the fun, Hiccup, the risk of bodily harm. C’mon… we’ll stay by the wall the first few laps.” In spite of her bold words, Pippa stepped gingerly onto the ice, sliding her skates in short, awkward strokes, grabbing the wall after only a few feet. She turned around, expecting to find Hecate still outside the rink. Instead, she nearly lost her skates when Hecate was right behind her, off the wall, sure and steady on the ice. “Of course, you remember how to skate, why wouldn’t you?” Shaking her head, Pippa pushed off from the wall. “Let’s go then…”

They took a rickety first lap around the rink, Hecate’s muscle memory returning much quicker than Pippa’s – much to Pippa’s chagrin. By the second lap they were both moving much more confidently, though perhaps not as quickly as other skaters. Pippa watched a cute couple skating past, hands clasped between them. She must have been looking a bit too wistfully, because when Pippa turned back to Hecate, she saw the look of hurt flickering across her face. “Hiccup?” She skated over to Hecate’s side, careful not to get too close. “What’s wrong?” She placed a hand on Hecate’s forearm, pulling her to a stop. “What is it?”

Hecate grinned ruefully and kept watching the couple make their way around the rink.  “It’s nothing, Pipsqueak, just… I want you to know that I understand if you’d rather be here with someone else; it would make a lovely place for a…date.”

“A what?” Pippa followed Hecate’s eyes, finally realizing that Hecate was focused on the now kissing couple. She couldn’t help it, she threw back her head and laughed, causing her skates to fly out from under her and landing her on her backside on the ice. Hecate was by her side at once.  “Oh, Hiccup…” she gasped, once she could speak again, “I promise you, darling, I am here with exactly the person I want to be here with.” She held out a hand and let Hecate help her back to her skates. Once up, Pippa pulled Hecate into motion, keeping their gloved fingers entwined for the next three laps, dropping them only when some racing children spun them around.

“Merlin’s rusty cauldron,” Hecate growled, grabbing Pippa’s arm to make sure the blonde stayed on her skates. She looked at Pippa, shocked to find Pippa staring back at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Pippa steadied herself on her skates, lifting her chin in challenge.

Hecate raised one slender eyebrow, but shifted on her skates, digging one toe into the ice, preparing to push off. “Once around the rink, then first to the exit? Loser buys the snacks?”

“You’re on, Hardbroom,” Pippa said, pushing off “GO!” Both witches raced away, laughter trailing behind them.

****

“Not the worst job I’ve seen today,” the nurse said, smiling as she finished wrapping gauze around Pippa’s palm. “Don’t know what you were thinking, dearie.”

Pippa flexed her fingers, wincing as the gauze stuck and pulled against the raw, scraped ice burn covering her palm. “I was thinking I was going to win,” she chuckled. “Would have done, too, if that boy hadn’t cut me off.” Instead, Pippa found herself sitting in the first-aid booth, getting her hand patched up while Hecate was off somewhere with Pippa’s wallet, choosing snacks that would no doubt be healthy and sensible. She sighed. Too bad… she’d really hoped for some caramel popcorn.

“Here come’s yer friend now,” the nurse said, pointing through the crowd at Hecate.

Pippa watched Hecate weaving her way through the mass of people, hands full as she carried a cardboard tray with drinks and brightly colored boxes. “Feeling better?” Hecate set the tray down and handed Pippa a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

“Mmmm….” Pippa breathed in the heavenly scent of the chocolate. “I am now… I just knew you were going to bring back something healthy, like a spinach smoothie or kale chips.” She sipped at the hot chocolate, sending a quick, silent spell to cool it to just the right temperature. “Perfect.” She eyed the colorful packages. “And what other treats did you bring?”

Smirking, Hecate opened the boxes. “Cinnamon roasted pecans – still warm.” She held out the box, her smirk softening into a gentle smile as Pippa plucked out a few pecans and popped them into her mouth.

“Heavenly,” she said, munching. “What else?” The next box was filled with a rainbow of saltwater taffy pieces, wrapped in waxed paper. “Lovely, I’ll save that for later.” She eyed the last box.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t want what’s in here,” Hecate teased. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

Pippa batted her eyes furiously, “Please?” Hecate held out for a moment before opening the last box and revealing a tiny mountain of caramel popcorn. Pippa squealed and snatched the entire box off the tray. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She shoved an entire handful into her mouth, moaning most inappropriately at the sweet, salty crunch. Mouth full, she winked her appreciation at Hecate, winking again when she saw the way it made her blush.

****

It was late when Hecate finally stepped out of her small bathroom, warm and relaxed from the bath, wearing the soft, fluffy robe that she would deny to anyone that she even owned. Walking towards the bed, she spotted an unfamiliar object on her nightstand. Out of habit she looked up, reaching out with her magic to check not only the castle wards, but her personal wards as well. Everything seemed to be in order. Stepping closer she could see that it was a snow globe. _Pippa_.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Hecate picked up the snow globe and gave it a twist. Glittering snowflakes swirled around a cluster of ice skaters on a tiny, tree-lined pond. She noticed a key for winding on the base and twisted it, smiling as the melody to “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” began to play. As the music played, the skaters began to move around the pond, spinning and twirling as they circled. Hecate wound it a couple more turns before returning it to the nightstand. She crawled under her covers and rolled onto her side, magicking out the lights before resting her chin on her hand. There was just enough moonlight that she could still see the tiny skaters circling the pond. She fell asleep listening to the music and dreamed of hot chocolate, ice skating, and Pippa.  


	8. The Holly and the Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate has never cared for fluff or extraneous decorations, but a gift from Pippa makes her reconsider. Perhaps the line between simple and stark is shorter than she thinks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Holly and the Ivy is a 'traditional British folk Christmas carol' according to Wikipedia, font of all knowledge.
> 
> As ever, I'm thankful to Sparky, who was awfully glad this thing wound up less than 1000 words when I sent it to her just after midnight.

The morning light was just beginning to filter into her bedroom when Hecate opened one eye. Glaring at the offending brightness, she started to pull the blankets over her head when she glimpsed the snow globe sitting on her nightstand. _Pippa_ , she thought again, smiling.

Propping herself up on a pillow, Hecate plucked the globe off the nightstand and wound it up. She gave it a swirl and then set it on her chest, watching the tiny skaters circle the pond as the music played. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel Pippa’s gloved hand in her own. She could still see her, rosy pink cheeks and laughing, sprawled on the ice after crashing during their race, somehow managing to scrape her palm through her gloves. She could still smell the hot chocolate.

One skater caught her eye – one in a pink coat with a blonde ponytail. She bolted upright, bringing the sphere closer to her eyes as she tried to blink the sleep away. Yes, a tiny woman with a blonde ponytail wearing a powder pink jacket. She was holding hands with a tiny figure in black jeans and a burgundy coat as they wove in and out of the other skaters. Hecate shook her head, bats fluttering in her belly as she realized that Pippa had placed them in the snow globe.

Cradling it against her chest, Hecate breathed in a slow, wavering breath, counting to five as she exhaled. This year was so different from last year. From the last thirty-odd years. Pippa was here, and they were friends again. She didn’t understand how it could have happened - only that Pippa refused to give up on her and that she desperately didn’t want to let Pippa down again. And that, impossible as it seemed, Mildred Hubble was somehow responsible.

Casting a warming spell on her slippers and the fluffy robe, Hecate braved the chill of her bedroom. She carried the snow globe into her living room, putting it first on the coffee table and then on the side table before deciding to place it in the center of the mantel.

It looked… out of place. Hecate took a long look at her living room, trying to see it with fresh eyes. The furniture was well-built and attractive, all dark woods and dark, heavy fabrics. The walls were the raw stone of the castle, the texture of the stone the only decoration. Hecate had always preferred to see the changing light of the day or night through the windows rather than see the static image of a painting or photograph day after day.  Her books filled the wall separating her living room from her small study where the only decorations were cauldrons and potions ingredients for her personal recipes.

Hecate shook her head. She felt comfortable here, but… did what looked uncluttered and organized to her read as stark and uncomfortable to everyone else? To Pippa? She could not deny the possibility. Winding the snow globe once again, Hecate came to a decision. Pippa would be here on Sunday to judge the Spell Science Fair, and Hecate would invite her to stay with her again. This time, however, Hecate’s rooms would be…welcoming.  

****

Hours later, Hecate stepped back, evaluating her handiwork. It wasn’t bright or gaudy. No lights twinkled, no stockings were hung by the chimney with care… but… she liked it.  Evergreen garland hung from the mantel in even swags. The snow globe still held pride of place in the middle of the mantel, but now it was flanked by two blooming amaryllis plants, straight from Hecate’s greenhouses. Spelled securely into the garland were antique ornaments that had belonged to her mother and her grandmother before that. She’d retrieved them from Hardbroom manor once her father had passed. She didn’t know why at the time. She’d never had any intention of using them, but they’d felt a part of her history. She was glad she had them now. The muted glass gleamed in the flickering firelight, reminding Hecate of Yules when she was very small.

Over the mantel she’d hung a wreath made of holly, the red berries contrasting cheerfully with the deep green of the leaves. She smiled, pleased with her results. Understated and classic. Festive, but still her. She hoped Pippa would be pleased with the effort, if not the actual results.

Speaking of Pippa… Hecate summoned the small photograph of the two of them as girls. Duplicating it, she sent the original back to her bedroom and kept a copy. Using a simple spell, she enlarged it and fixed it to the wall by the door where she would be able to see it from her favorite chair by the fireplace. Her first family portrait, of sorts, she thought. That, at least, she knew would please Pippa, and that thought warmed her from the inside out better than any warming spell.

She wound the music box on the snow globe one more time, humming along as she finished getting ready for the rest of her day.

 

 

 


	9. Do You Want to Build a Snowman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something goes wrong with Mildred's project for the Spell Science Fair and fun - and trouble - aren't far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, the title of this chapter is from the Disney film "Frozen" as is the inspiration for the entire fic. I don't care if it isn't exactly a holiday song.
> 
> As ever, I'm thankful to Sparky for all her efforts at making me sound vaguely literate.

Mildred snuggled deeper under her blanket; the temperature must have dropped during the night, she thought. Saturday morning meant Mildred could sleep in, just a bit, before she would meet Enid and Maud for breakfast. Or, she could, if she’d managed to work out her Spell Science Fair project yesterday. Her Forever Frozen Snowman Spell still wasn’t lasting as long as she needed.

She shivered, knowing she should get up, but fighting the urge to stay in bed. Bed won. She grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it higher, eyes popping open when it crackled. “Wha—” She pushed up onto her elbows, staring down at her blanket. It was…frozen? Thin sheets of ice flaked off the blanket as she shifted, scattering on the floor and melting into little puddles. Mildred grabbed the edge of the blanket, intending to flip the ice off, but instead icy tendrils flowed from her fingertips, traveling the length of the blanket.

Mildred scrambled out of bed, slipping on the puddles and crashing to her hands and knees on the floor. Ice spread out from where her hands rested against the stone. She snatched her hands off the floor and clambered to her feet, stumbling back against her desk. Ice flowed across the desktop, frost forming on her books and satchel. Panicking now, Mildred stumbled backwards, hands unconsciously grabbing her plaits. The ice didn’t hesitate - in seconds two frozen plaits stuck out at odd angles from her head.

“Calm down, Millie,” she told herself, taking a deep calming breath, like she’d seen Miss Hardbroom do. Miss Hardbroom! She’d know what to do… even if it meant a month of detention, Miss Hardbroom could fix it. “Just go find Miss Hardbroom, Millie.” She looked around the room, searching for her shoes. She picked up one of the hobnailed boots, using just her fingertips on the laces. It didn’t matter – the ice flowed down the lace and coated the boot. Experimentally, she touched the bedframe and kept the contact. In seconds, the frame was coated in a thin layer of frost. After a minute, the ice was about a quarter-inch thick. After two minutes, an inch of ice covered the frame, and frost seeped across the bedlinens again.

 She pulled her hand away and waited. The ice stayed where it was, gradually developing a shine as it began to melt normally. More puddles covered her floor. Face scrunching in concentration, Mildred cautiously brought her hands together, yanking them apart as soon as they touched. Her hands were freezing now, but there wasn’t any ice. Shivering, she looked around for her fingerless gloves, deciding that they’d only freeze if she tried to put them on. Same with her scarf, jumper, or jacket. Giving up on changing into warmer clothes, Mildred wriggled her feet into her slippers. “At least my feet don’t freeze things,” she said, looking at her familiar, who was lounging in the sunny windowsill. “Don’t worry, Tabby, I won’t pet you until Miss Hardbroom has me sorted.” She reached for her door handle, catching herself just before she touched it and froze the door shut. “Tabby?” She looked at her cat. Tabby stared back, indolently. “Please?” She pleaded, gesturing awkwardly at the door. Slowly, Tabby stood, taking the time to stretch thoroughly before having a bit of a wash. “Come on, Tabby!” Finally, Tabby sauntered to the door, opening it and waiting for Mildred to leave.

****

“Millie!” Maud called from down the corridor. “Where have you been?” Enid and Maud raced towards Mildred, reaching for her hands to drag her to the Dining Hall.

“Wait!” Mildred clenched her fists and shoved her hands behind her back. “Don’t touch me!”

Enid and Maud skidded to a stop, surprised and confused.

“What’s wrong?” Maud asked, checking Mildred over. “What’s happened?”

Mildred sighed, bringing her hands around in front and holding them up. “Something’s gone off with my project. Look,” she pressed her hands to the wall. She couldn’t help but smile at the gasps that came from her friends as a thin layer of ice spiderwebbed across the stone.

“Caw!” Enid rushed up to trace her fingers over the ice. “How d’you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Mildred said, shrugging wildly. “I don’t know what’s done it?” She reached up and grabbed one of the sconces hanging on the wall; within minutes long icicles hung down towards the floor.

“How did you go to the loo?” Maud asked, ever practical.

“I haven’t,” Millie grimaced. “I’m trying not to think about it, thanks.”

“What else can you do? Can you shoot it out of your fingers like in the movie?” Enid mimed shooting the ice down the hall. “Can you make it snow?”

Mildred looked at her hands. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”

“Haven’t tried what?” a sneering voice said from behind them.

The girls spun around; as expected, Ethel Hallow stood behind, them looking as though she’d just eaten something sour.

“Mildred can make things freeze!” Enid announced, as if it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

“Ooh! You’re like Elsa!” Felicity Foxglove appeared from nowhere, tapping furiously on her maglet.

“I don’t know what’s so special about that; the cold freezes things all the time.”

“All right then, Ethel, let’s see you do it!  Oh! Wait! You’ve already frozen the whole bloody place, haven’t you?” Enid challenged. Ethel flounced down the hallway in response. “That’s what I thought, then,” she called after her, before turning back to her friends. “Go on then, Millie, see if you can shoot the ice out of your fingers.”

Millie wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but…she looked around at all the expectant faces. Even Ethel was trying to look without looking like she was looking. “I guess it won’t hurt to find out what it does before I go get Miss Hardbroom? Right. Better to know what’s wrong, then.” She thought for a moment before dropping to her knees and planting her hands firmly on the floor; ice began to form at once. Concentrating, Mildred closed her eyes and imagined herself pushing the ice across the floor. Giggles and squeals of laughter filled the hallway. Mildred opened her eyes to find the corridor transformed. Ice and snow filled the passageway. Enid was already skating from one end to the other on her hobnailed boots.

“Oh, Millie! It’s brilliant!” Felicity tucked her maglet away and raced after Enid.

Mildred climbed to her feet and held her hands up in the air. She pictured the water droplets her science teacher back at St. Joseph’s had said were in the air. She visualized each droplet that touched her fingers freezing, then freezing the next and the next.

“Millie! You did it!” Millie opened her eyes to find Maude waving her arms at the snow flurries filling the air. 

In moments, the hallway was filled with squealing girls and flying snowballs.  No one, least of all Mildred, should have been surprised when the noise brought Miss Hardbroom around.

“GIRLS!!!” Miss Hardbroom shouted, bulging eyes and flaring nostrils. She stood in the middle of the corridor, ramrod straight, her arms pressed rigidly against her sides. “What in Merlin’s name is going on here?” All around the corridor, girls slipped and sputtered to a stop, trying to keep their feet on the ice. “Who. Is. Responsible. For. This.” Narrowed eyes swept from one girl to the next.

“It was me, Miss Hardbroom.” Millie said, hiding her hands behind her back.

Miss Hardbroom rolled her eyes. “Mildred Hub-ble. Why does that not surprise me?” Cocking her head to the side, she arched one eyebrow. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

“Nothing, Miss Hardbroom.” Mildred kept her hands behind her back. “It’s like this—”

“Let me see your hands, Mildred. Now.”

Forehead wrinkling, Mildred slowly held her hands out. Miss Hardbroom stalked towards her, heedless of the ice. Just as she reached Mildred, one of her boots slipped. On instinct, Mildred reached out to steady her teacher, grabbing Miss Hardbroom’s hand before she could stop herself. Miss Hardbroom’s eyes flew open as the freezing began. Mildred tugged against the vise-grip Miss Hardbroom had on her hand, watching in horror as the ice got thicker and thicker before she could jerk her hand free.

“Miss Hardbroom! I’m so sorry, Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred looked wildly around – the corridor had emptied of everyone in a matter of seconds. Only Enid and Maud remained. “Hurry, Enid, go get Miss Cackle! RUN!” Enid scrambled across the ice, slipping and scraping until she reached the clear floor. Mildred stepped closer to her teacher and shouted, “Hang on, Miss Hardbroom, Enid’s gone to get Miss Cackle!”

“What about a warming spell?” Maud opened her mouth to cast the spell—”

“Wait! She’s doing it herself!” Mildred pointed at Miss Hardbroom’s face, where two glowing red eyes could be seen through the ice. Water was already starting to drip from her frozen form. “You’re doing it, Miss Hardbroom! Keep going!” A few minutes later and a thawed, but very wet Hecate Hardbroom was bent at the waist, hands on her knees, gasping for air. “A chair, Maud, bring the chair!”

Maud dragged a chair into the middle of the hallway and helped Miss Hardbroom sit down. Mildred hung close, being careful not to touch anything. Miss Cackle and Enid transferred into the hallway.

“Oh, dear!” Ada moved to her Deputy’s side at once. “Hecate? Are you all right?” Miss Hardbroom nodded, shivering. With a wave of her hand, Miss Cackle cast both a warming and a drying spell over her. “What’s happened here? Enid says you froze Miss Hardbroom?”

“N-not on purpose, Miss Cackle, I swear.” Mildred held her hands out. “Something’s gone wrong with my project. Every time I touch something…” She shrugged and placed her hand on the wall. Tendrils of ice traveled over the stone, forming delicate patterns as it spread. “It’s getting worse. At first it didn’t freeze so fast.”

“I see,” Miss Cackle stepped over to the wall and began examining the ice.

“I was on my way to find Miss Hardbroom, but… well, things got out of hand.” Unconsciously, Mildred grabbed her plaits, freezing them again. “Bother,” she sighed.

“W-w-what were you working on?” Miss Hardbroom asked, shivering in spite of Ada’s spells.

“A Forever Frozen Snowman spell. It’s meant to keep a snowman from melting, so you can bring it inside.  I don’t know how it happened, though. It was just like this when I woke up.”

“That’s a very clever idea for a spell, Mildred.” Miss Cackle smiled. “Let’s go see what we can figure out, shall we?” She raised a hand and snapped her fingers, transferring Mildred, Miss Hardbroom and herself to her office.

****

“Keep a good hold of your magic and say your spell again, Mildred,” Miss Cackle said, ready to write it down. Miss Hardbroom sat in the chair closest to the fireplace, flipping through a spell book, hoping to find a counter spell.

Mildred recited her spell, careful not to add any magic.

 

> “Snowman born of ice and frost,
> 
> temperature’s rise and all is lost,
> 
> but soon the heat you will withstand,
> 
> when touched by the magic of my hand.”

 

“Hmmm…. That’s a very good spell,” Ada smiled, looking over her glasses at Hecate. “Wouldn’t you say so, Miss Hardbroom?”

Miss Hardbroom looked up from her spell book, clearly at a loss for how to reply.

“It’s okay, Miss Hardbroom. I know it’s rubbish,” Mildred said, leaning over to sip a bit of hot chocolate through the straw Miss Cackle had provided for her.

“It’s…juvenile… to be sure…” Miss Hardbroom said, answering slowly. She pointedly ignored the tut they both heard coming from Miss Cackle. “But you are a junior witch, Mildred. That’s to be expected. In time, I would expect your spells to acquire more finesse. It may not have worked the way you intended it, Mildred, but you did cast a powerful spell.”

Mildred brightened considerably. “Really? You aren’t just saying that?”

“Mildred Hubble.” Miss Hardbroom’s expression hardened into a scowl. “When have I ever just ‘said’ anything?” She turned back to her spellbook without waiting for a response.

Miss Cackle chuckled good naturedly to herself before clapping her hands together and moving to sit next to Mildred. “Now, I rather expect we can sort you out with a good old reversing spell. One of the old ones I think.” Closing her eyes, Miss Cackle held her hands out, focusing her magic on Mildred. “Reversus Revolvus, Returnus Resolvus, Illio, Allio, Redux Reducio!”

“Ooooh… It feels warmer!” Mildred looked at her hands and tentatively touched the straw in her mug of hot chocolate. Nothing happened. Smiling happily, she picked the whole mug up. When nothing happened there either, she downed the contents in a single gulp. “Thank you, Miss Cackle!”

“You’re very welcome, dear. Now, Miss Hardbroom? Have you found anything that might keep us from having a repeat of Mildred’s predicament tomorrow?”

Miss Hardbroom waggled her head back and forth, thinking. “Remove her from the competition? Transfer her immediately to Pentangle’s?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Mildred and Miss Cackle. Mildred could see the barest uptick in the corner of her mouth. “Very well then, I believe if you’ll simply change the last line of your spell from ‘when touched by the magic of my hand’ to ‘when touched by magic from my hand’ you’ll avoid the unintended activation of the spell whenever you touch an object.”

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom!” Before she could stop herself, Mildred had flung her arms around Miss Hardbroom, hugging her tightly. “You’re the bats!” Hecate held her arms stiffly out to the side, refusing to acknowledge Ada’s suppressed chuckle. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Cackle, Miss Hardbroom, I really need to get to the loo.”

 

 


	10. All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Spell Science Fair has finally arrived and everyone’s parents have come to watch the presentations. Almost everyone’s. Once again Enid finds herself playing second fiddle to her parents’ careers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some angst and anger, Enid’s feeling forgotten and Ethel is feeling…like Ethel.
> 
> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist. 
> 
> This week’s title is Mariah Carey’s modern classic.
> 
> Thanks go to Sparky, as usual. She’s being an awfully good sport about all of this.Notes: This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist. 
> 
> Additionally, I'd like to give a big thanks to @emiline-northeto (emiline here) for her fabulous idea for Mildred's Spell Science Fair project.

Julie Hubble fussed with her collar one last time, still wondering if she should switch back to the cowl-necked sweater. She turned to check the clock on the wall behind her. She needed to be on the street in fifteen minutes if she wanted to make sure she found a taxi to take her to the base of the mountain in time for her to hike up to Cackle’s.

“WHA-AAGH!” Julie screamed and stumbled backwards. Hecate Hardbroom’s inscrutable face stared back at her. “Do you people ever just ring the phone?” Clutching her chest, Julie staggered back to the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

“My apologies, Ms. Hubble.” Hecate’s lips twitched the tiniest amount. “It wasn’t my intention to startle you.”

“More of a happy bonus, then?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Hecate said, pursing her lips together and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. She cleared her throat before focusing on Julie again. “I thought I would ask if you would care to be transferred to the castle, rather than walk. The weather isn’t ideal.”

Head cocked to the side, Julie waited, half expecting some sort of scathing comment or thinly veiled insult. It never came. Instead, she watched Hecate’s expression shift from bemusement to confusion to her more familiar expressionless mask.

“If you’d rather—”

“No!” Julie held her hands up, “I’m sorry…I just…” she laughed, shaking her head. “I think I’m not used to hearing from Cackle’s and not having anything be wrong.”

Hecate started to protest, then shut her mouth. “I suppose that would be a fair statement.” She inhaled sharply through her nose. “Nonetheless, considering the weather, I thought you might want to avoid your usual hike up the mountain. However, if you’d prefer to take your usual route…”

“No, thank you, Miss Hardbroom. I’d love to transfer. I don’t fancy freezing me knickers off just to get to the Science Fair.”

“The Spell Science Fair.”

“Right. Yes.” Julie said, tightly, doing her best not to antagonize the prickly witch on the other side of the mirror. In truth, she hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of hiking up the mountain in this weather. “Do you want to do it now? The transfer, I mean? I can be ready in about five minutes if I get a wiggle on.”

Hecate opened her pocket watch. “The Brunch begins in just under two hours. Shall I transfer you in an hour and a half?”

Julie glanced back at the clock. “Ten-thirty then?” She nodded. “I’ll be ready. Thank you, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Ten-thirty, Ms. Hubble. Be ready.” Without another word, Hecate disappeared, leaving Julie to stare at her own befuddled reflection. “Well then, Jules,” she said to herself, “I guess you’ve got another hour to fuss with your outfit.”

****

Enid tossed her maglet back down on the table before crossing her arms and slumping in her chair.

Mildred leaned across the table. “Is your mum not coming then?”

Enid shook her head, scuffing her boot against the floor. “No. Their show got held over in Manchester.”

“Oh, love, I’m sorry,” Julie wrapped an arm around the dejected girl. “I know they’re disappointed.”

Shaking Julie’s arm from her shoulder, Enid got up to leave Mildred’s room. “Not that disappointed.” She shuffled out, shutting the door behind her.

“Is this always how it goes for Enid, Millie Bear?” Julie tugged one of Millie’s braids.

Shrugging, Millie nodded. “Yeah, it usually does.”

“Well, then, I guess we’ll just have to make her an honorary Hubble, eh, love?” Julie smacked a kiss on the top of Mildred’s head. “Let’s go see what treats Miss Tapioca has in store for us, what do you say?”

Groaning, Mildred followed her mum to the Great Hall.

“Millie!” Maud jumped up and down, waving her arms at the Hubbles. “Over here!”

Mildred spotted the Spellbody family at a table on the far side of the room. Dashing through the room, Mildred just managed to avoid crashing into Ethel Hallow. “Hey, Maud!” she shouted, skidding to a stop in front of the table. “Well met, Mr. and Mrs. Spellbody!”

“Well met, Mildred!” Mavis stood up to shake Julie’s hand. “Well met, Miss Hubble.”

“It’s Mizzz Hubble, Mum,” Maud whispered, too loud.

Julie just laughed and shook hands. “It’s Julie, actually.” She looked around, frowning. “No Enid, then?” The Spellbodys shook their heads. “Girls…why don’t you two go find Enid. Tell her I said she was to get in here – pronto. Go on, get your skates on!” She shooed the girls off, wincing as Mildred narrowly avoided crashing into Ethel Hallow yet again. “So,” she said, turning back to the Spellbodys, “are you as ready as I am for an afternoon of Spell Science Fair presentations.”

“I would’ve been, but the Missus made me leave the flask at home!” Mr. Spellbody roared at his own joke. His wife just rolled her eyes.

“Sorry, Mavis, I have to say I’m with him,” Julie grinned.

“Don’t encourage him,” she said, slapping her husband on the shoulder. Turning back to Julie, Mavis leaned in and lowered her voice. “I never got to thank you properly for what you did when…when the girls were frozen. I hate to think about what could have happened if you hadn’t shown up.” She slipped a finger under her glasses to wipe away a tear. “What we owe you…”

“You don’t owe me a thing, love.” Julie patted Mavis on the back. “Anyone else would have done the same thing…”

“Not anyone,” Mr. Spellbody said, nodding his head towards a table in the front of the Great Hall. There, by themselves, sat the Hallows. The rest of the table was pointedly free of other families. “Serves them right, if you ask me.”

“Maybe,” Mavis said, brows furrowed behind her glasses. “Do you think it’s because of Mrs. Hallow or because of what Ethel did?”

“I thought they kept Ethel’s part in killing the Founding Stone a secret?” Julie studied the other parents. “The kids don’t seem to be taking any notice of the Hallows, do they? I think it’s their mum.”

“She did forge everyone’s names to try and get rid of Miss Cackle,” Mr. Spellbody reminded them. “Can’t say I blame them.”

Julie and Mavis shared a glance. “It’s not the girls’ fault their mum did all that,” Mavis said. “Do you…?”

Sighing heavily, Julie nodded. “I do.” She counted the number of empty seats at their table. There were enough. “Oi! Hallows! Come sit with us over here.” Julie waved them over, knowing they’d done the right thing when Sybil’s face lit up and she rushed over to their table. Ethel followed with much less enthusiasm. Ursula Hallow glared at them through narrowed eyes for several long minutes before she pushed herself away from the table and stomped her way over.

“What do you want?” Ursula lifted her chin defiantly.

“Millie’s told me so much about your daughters, I thought I’d like to meet their mum.” She lifted her hand for the traditional witch’s greeting, but Ursula cut her off.

“That’s only meant for people with magic. Not Ordinaries.”

Julie started to respond but was cut off by the arrival of Mildred and Maud, who were dragging a less than enthusiastic Enid along with them. “Enid!” she shouted, pulling the girl into a tight hug. “Are you ready for the Spell Science Fair?”

“I guess,” she shrugged.

Suddenly, Miss Cackle tapped a glass with her spoon, welcoming everyone to the Spell Science Fair and the Parents Brunch. “I know everyone is eager to start our delicious meal,” Ada doggedly ignored the quiet groans emanating from the crowd, “however, I wanted to introduce our esteemed judge for today’s events: Miss Pentangle, from Pentangle’s Academy!” The girls erupted into applause – none more enthusiastic than Felicity Foxglove.

Pippa materialized next to Ada at the head table, Hecate at her elbow. “Hello, Cackle’s! I’m so delighted to be here today! I can’t wait to see what clever spells you all have worked up!” The girls cheered harder as she waved and took a seat next to Ada, pulling the chair out for Hecate as she sat down.

****

Hecate leaned over and whispered in Pippa’s ear, “You always did know how to make a grand entrance, Pipsqueak.”

“Never underestimate the power of good theatrics, Hiccup,” Pippa answered, winking. “Speaking of theatrics,” she nodded her head towards a table in the middle of the room. A table where one very angry Mildred Hubble was on her feet gesturing furiously at an equally angry Ethel Hallow while Julie and the Spellbodys tried to talk them down. “I think a bit of intervention might be in order.”

Hecate’s head whipped around; the girls looked seconds away from squaring off for a Section Seven. “That girl will be the death of me,” Hecate growled, “and no, I do not mean Mildred Hubble.” She flicked a wrist and disappeared, materializing a breath later behind the Hubbles.

“Tease all you want to, Hiccup,” Pippa said to herself, smiling, “you know all about good theatrics.”

****

“What is going on here?” Hecate hissed before she’d completely materialized. “There are guests in this room, and I will not have you acting like common hooligans. Sit down this instant.” Hecate’s eyes glowed red, and both Mildred’s and Ethel’s chairs slid in behind them, knocking them on to their backsides in the seats.

Mildred twisted around in her chair. “But Ethel said my mum—”

“That’s enough, Millie-Bear,” Julie said, cutting her daughter off mid-tattle. “Miss Hardbroom doesn’t want to hear about that.”

Hecate scowled at both girls as she took in the rest of the table. Enid and Maud looked furious, of course. Ethel and her mother looked as haughty as ever, but Esme and Sybil simply looked like they wanted to disappear into the floor. Mr. Spellbody’s jaw muscles were working furiously as he stared lightning bolts at Ursula Hallow, while Mavis simply looked stricken.

Hecate turned her attention to Julie Hubble, and while she couldn’t see the woman’s face, she could see her twisting and wringing a napkin under the table. The Hallows, then. As expected. She leaned forward and lowered her voice to its lowest, most menacing register. “I do not care what Ethel Hallow said, or what anyone said, for that matter.” She placed one hand on Mildred’s shoulder and the other on Julie’s. “We are all witches here, and we will all conduct ourselves to the highest standards. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” She gave each of the Hubble’s shoulders the barest squeeze, but it was enough to make Mildred light up.

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” she said, beaming.

“Very well.” She stared pointedly at Ursula Hallow. “Anyone who behaves in a manner unbecoming of a witch will be asked to leave the Fair and they, or their child, will have their project disqualified.” She dropped her hands from the Hubbles’ shoulders and transferred back to the head table, taking up her place next to a smiling Pippa.

****

“All right, witches!” Mr. Rowan-Webb clapped his hands together. “It’s time to get hopping…heh hee… with our annual Spell Science Fair.” He turned to Pippa and bowed. “Miss Pentangle, I hand the festivities over to you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rowan-Webb.” Pippa smiled at the girls, each standing nervously next to their display. “I see so much creativity! Let’s get this bat out of the belfry!” Pippa made the rounds of the room, stopping at each girl’s project. Hecate followed along behind her, clipboard in hand, ready to take any notes Pippa might want. “Maud Spellbody…I know this project will be just outstanding.”

“Well met, Miss Pentangle. Have you ever come in from the cold only to have your glasses fog completely over? It’s a problem every bespectacled witch has experienced.” Maud stepped aside, going through the theory and calculations displayed on her presentation board. “If I might borrow your glasses, Miss Pentangle?”

“My…oh! Certainly.” Pippa summoned her pink reading glasses from the coffee table in Hecate’s quarters. “Here you go!” She handed her glasses over to Maud.

“Thank you!” Maud set Pippa’s glasses on the table and recited her spell. “Hot or cold, wet or dry, keep these lenses clear to my eye.” Once the spell was cast, Maud placed the glasses in a tiny chilly bin filled with ice and set a timer. Three minutes later Maud pulled the glasses out of the cold and handed them to Pippa. “If you would put them on, please?”

Pippa slipped her readers onto her nose. “Oooh…that’s quite nippy.” She turned to Hecate. “What do you think, Hic-…Hec-… Miss Hardbroom? Any fog?

Hecate stared, slack-jawed at Pippa in her reading glasses, jerking back to the present the second time Pippa said her name. She snapped her jaw closed and shook her head. “No… no fog.” She forced her face into its usual stony expression when Pippa winked at her.

“Well done, Maud.” Pippa smiled.

Next they moved to Felicity’s entry. Unfortunately, the girl was so flustered by Miss Pentangle she could scarcely give her presentation. As best Pippa could make out, the girl had attempted to create a spell that would allow her hair to shimmer in a multitude of colors.

“Wasn’t that your summer potions project, Miss Foxglove?” Hecate said, making a note on the clipboard.

“That used a potion, Miss Hardbroom,” Felicity answered, never taking her eyes off Pippa. “This used a spell.”

“Well, it makes for lovely hair,” Pippa said, stepping away before she whispered to Hecate. “I think Felicity may have a bit of a crush.”

Hecate swallowed hard, thinking that Felicity might not be the only one. “I believe Mildred is next.” They crossed to Mildred’s station.

“Hello, Miss Pentangle!”

“Mildred! My goodness, what a beautiful display!” Pippa gushed. She was right; Mildred had definitely gone all out on her display board. Front and center glittered a water color of Cackle’s Academy, covered in snow. The words to her spell were written out in an elegant calligraphy down one side while a report on the idea and purpose of her project were glued to the other. “You seem to be missing something, though,” Pippa said, pointing at the empty tray in the middle of her table. “I don’t see anything about an invisibility spell in your write-up.”

“No, Miss Pentangle,” Mildred giggled, “nothing invisible. This time.” Hecate cleared her throat. “Sorry, Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred said, turning as serious as she could manage. “My Spell Science Project is the Forever Frozen Snowman Spell. Don’t you hate it when you spend hours building the perfect snowman, only to have the sun come out and melt him away? Or maybe you’d like to bring your snowman inside to enjoy while you sit in front of the fire with a nice hot cocoa? Well….now you can!” She looked at Miss Hardbroom expectantly.

Hecate studied the clipboard in front of her, unaware that both Mildred and Pippa were looking at her.

“Miss Hardbroom!” Mildred whispered. “My snowman!”

“Hmmm? Oh, yes,” Hecate waved her hand, and a three-foot snow sculpture appeared on the tray in the middle of Mildred’s table. She couldn’t help but notice the high collar and sculpted watch pendant the snowwitch sported. She arched one eyebrow at Mildred, not the least bit surprised to receive a cheeky grin in response.

Mildred thanked Hecate before turning her attention back to Miss Pentangle. “As you can see, I have an ordinary snowwitch that I made earlier this week. Now that we’ve brought her inside, she’s starting to melt.” She pointed at the beading water and rapidly growing puzzle, now…before little Miss Hardbrush melts away…” Mildred ignored the strangled sound that erupted from Miss Hardbroom, concentrating instead on Miss Pentangle, who was struggling mightily to keep her expression neutral.

 “Snowman born of ice and frost,

temperature’s rise and all is lost,

but soon the heat you will withstand,

when touched by magic from my hand.”

 

“Now, as you can see… the melting has stopped.” Mildred pointed to her snowman with a flourish.

“Fantastic, Mildred!” Pippa clapped. “Don’t you think so, Hecate?”

“Fantastic.” Hecate handed the clipboard to Pippa so she could make her notes, noting that the pink reading glasses made another appearance.

Next up, Enid, who still lacked any sort of enthusiasm for the day. “Well met,” she said, barely bowing enough to be considered respectful. “My spell is the Tell-Tale Heart Spell. It lets you keep in touch with your loved ones,” she shrugged, “if someone actually wants to keep in touch with you.”

Hecate started to speak, but Pippa laid a hand on her arm, stilling her, before bending down until she was eye to eye with Enid. “Your mum was supposed to be here today, wasn’t she, darling?” Enid nodded. “It’s hard to go on when you’re disappointed, I know. But you’ve put so much work into it already, haven’t you?” She waited until Enid nodded again. She looked around and spotted Julie Hubble, watching them intently. “I think Ms. Hubble is cheering for you…and I’m delighted to see you doing so well here at Cackle’s.”

“My mum was supposed to be part of my presentation, but she isn’t here.” Enid angrily brushed a tear off her cheek.

Pippa turned around and waved Julie Hubble over. “Would you mind standing in for Mrs. Nightshade?”

“Not at all, I’m pleased as punch to help out. What do you need me to do, love?”

Enid slid a silver heart-shaped pin across the table to Julie. “Put that on your shirt, by your heart.” Julie pinned it in place and waited while Enid cast her spell. Nothing happened. Enid cast again. Still nothing. Finally, Enid slumped in defeat. “You have to…” She shrugged again. “It’s supposed to beat like your heartbeat whenever a loved one thinks about you. So you can stay in touch.”

“I’m sorry, Enid-love. It’s a brilliant idea though, isn’t it? I’d love to have one.” Julie removed the pin and handed it to Pippa, who examined it, trying to figure out why it didn’t work.

“It seems…” Pippa started.

Hecate picked up the one from the table and nearly dropped it when both pins thrummed out a heartbeat, each in time with the other. “I…”

Enid’s head shot up, her eyes darting back and forth between the teachers. They were looking at each other, shock on Hecate’s face, pleased surprise on Pippa’s.

“It seems it works after all, Enid! Well done!” Pippa handed the pin back to Enid. Reluctantly, Hecate did the same. “I think your mum will be very pleased to get one of these.” Pippa smiled and took the clipboard, smiling as Julie Hubble wrapped an arm around Enid’s shoulders and guided her over to the other girls.

“Miss Pentangle,” Ethel said, before they’d even arrived at her station. “I see you’ve chosen to save the best presentation for last.”

Pippa forced her face into a pleasant expression. This girl…this girl and her… feelings of entitlement had very nearly destroyed Cackle’s. Had very nearly destroyed Hecate. As much as she tried to convince herself that Ethel was just a child, she struggled to forgive. She didn’t understand how Hecate could bear to be in the same room with her. “Have I now? Well then, I suppose you’d best show us your project then,” she said, tightly.

Ethel started her spiel, filled with self-aggrandizement and bluster. And it went on and on and then…she produced a spell meant to keep a witch’s hat tidy and formed. Pippa glanced at Hecate, who was staring resolutely ahead. Finally, Pippa couldn’t take it any longer.

“You’re absolutely right, Ethel. It is that attention to detail that matters.”

“Exactly,” she smirked, throwing a smug glance Mildred’s way. “Any witch should be embarrassed to be seen in a hat that looked like it came from a jumble sale.”

Mr. Rowan-Webb clapped his hands again. “Miss Cackle would like me to inform you that refreshments are waiting in the Great Hall. Please enjoy yourself while our esteemed judge makes her decision.”

****

Enid tossed another sock towards the trophy; she missed. At three feet tall it was just big enough to use as the target in a game of sock.

“My turn, then,” Mildred said, sighting up behind the bed. “I call this one to land inside the cup.” She tossed, and it looked like her aim was true until Miss Hardbroom materialized in front of the trophy. The sock bounced off her chest and on to the floor. No one moved to get it.

“What is the meaning of this? Do you know that it is past curfew?”

“Oh! Is it?” Mildred pretended not to know.

“Don’t let winning the Spell Science Fair go to your head, Enid Nightshade,” Hecate said severely. “Now gather your things.”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” Enid said, picking up her socks from the floor and scooping up the trophy to take back to her room.

“Please make your way to Miss Cackle’s office, Enid.” She waited until the girl was looking up at her, nervously. “Your mother is waiting on a mirror call. She wants to see your trophy.” She stepped aside just in time to avoid getting smacked by the trophy as Enid sped out the door. “As for you two… well done today. You should be pleased.”

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” they chorused.

“However, Mildred Hub-ble… I trust I have seen the last of snowwitches made in my likeness?”

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom.”

 

 


	11. Cold December Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When faced with the dilemma of one giant tuck box and one impending curfew, what are three little witches to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.   
> Today’s selection – one I’ve never heard of by Michael Bublé. How have I missed it?  
> How do I say ‘Thank you, Sparky?’ let me count the ways…

“Look what Mum and Dad sent!” Enid staggered into Mildred’s hutch carrying the biggest tuck box that Mildred had ever seen. “It’s for winning the Spell Science Fair!”

“Is that all food?” Maud asked, staring at the box. “You’ll look like Ethel used an Engorgement spell on you if you eat all that!”

Enid sniffed. “That’s why I’m not going to eat it all.” Plunking the box onto Mildred’s bed, she opened it with a flourish. “We’re going to eat it all.”

Mildred bounced onto her knees, leaning over to get a better look inside. “It’s really full!” She looked at Enid in disbelief. “They really sent you all this food?”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not like I usually apply myself, so…”

“That’s so not fair,” Maud whined, “I always apply myself and the most I might ever get is a tin of biscuits.”

“That was your mistake,” Enid said as Mildred nodded in agreement. “You created expectations. Should’ve stayed average.”

Maud huffed and crossed her arms, but she didn’t move away from the tuck box. “Did they send anything chocolate?”

“Loads.” Enid rifled through the box. “There’s some KitKat, some Cadbury Dairy Milks, a fancy box…”

“Oi, Jelly Babies!” Mildred snatched the bright yellow bag out of the box. “Oh…” she looked up, sheepishly, “can I have a bag of the Jelly Babies? Please?” Before Enid could answer, Mildred’s maglet chimed the hour. Curfew was about to start. Reluctantly, Mildred placed the bag back into Enid’s tuck box. “I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow. HB’s going to be proper cross if we’re not in bed the night before exams begin.”

“Not to mention that you won’t do as well if you aren’t fully rested,” Maud added. Enid and Mildred stared at her like she’d spouted a snout. “And there’s that HB thing, too,” she mumbled, looking away.

“She’ll only catch us if we stay in our rooms,” Enid suggested. “Why don’t we go somewhere that isn’t on her rounds?”

Mildred frowned. “Where can we go that’s not on her rounds? She walks all through the castle.”

“Yeah, but that’s just on the inside, isn’t it?” Enid snapped the lid closed on her box. “What if we go on the roof? She won’t come up there; and if she does, we can just say we’re revising some astronomy for Miss Bat.”

“We’ll freeze up there!” Maud shivered at the very idea. “It’ll be just like being frozen again!”

“Nah… we’ve got our magic this time! We’ll take some blankets and cast a warming spell and it’ll be fun. Millie’s up for it, aren’t you Mil?”

Mildred thought it over. She knew HB would have them in detention until the end of term, but, honestly, she didn’t mind the detentions with Miss Hardbroom so much anymore. Her grades were actually getting better. “Well… we probably shouldn’t…” Maud looked pleased, while Enid rolled her eyes. “But I really do want to eat my Jelly Babies!” Enid jumped up and down, clapping, before she remembered that quiet hours were in effect. “What’s the worst than can happen, Maud? We’ll get detention and have to revise for our exams. You’d probably like that.”

Maud sighed a heavy, aggrieved sigh, but Mildred saw her glancing at the Dairy Milks. “Fine, but only for a little while.”

“Right!” Enid beamed and started gathering up Mildred’s blankets and bundling them into Mildred’s arms. “Go get your bedding and meet us by that window in the tower that lets you out onto the roof. And don’t get caught!”

****

Ada looked up from her expense report as Hecate entered the office. The reports would be due at the end of term and she was nowhere close to being ready, but, frankly, she could use a bit of a distraction from them at the moment. “Hecate! How do things look the night before exams begin? Are our little scholars revising away?”

Hecate frowned, not sure if Ada was teasing or not until she saw the twinkle in her eyes. “You know very well they are not. The First Years are finding any excuse to make a trip to the kitchens for snacks or water, and the Fifth Years are gathered in their common area playing some sort of Ordinary game called Cards Against Humanity. They got very secretive about it when I went through announcing that it was twenty minutes to curfew.”

“I rather expect they did,” Ada groaned, summoning the game from the girls and placing it in the Confiscation Room. Unlike Hecate, Ada had not declined Dimity’s last invitation to a faculty game night in her quarters. She still couldn’t decide if she should be proud or embarrassed that she’d won. “I’m sure the girls will settle down once curfew begins.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “In fact, it should be starting just about now. Do you fancy some company on rounds tonight, Hecate? I know I fancy a bit of time away from these expense reports.”

“When do you not ‘fancy time away’ from expense reports?” Her tone was severe, but Hecate’s lips quirked just enough that Ada knew she was teasing.

“Point taken,” Ada grinned. “Shall we?”

****

Rounds had indeed taken longer than usual, and though Hecate would never admit it, having the Headmistress along didn’t help matters. Whereas Hecate could usually glower and threaten the girls with detention and clear the corridors in a matter of seconds, Ada stopped to talk to the girls about their day and their upcoming exams. Hecate checked and rechecked the time on her pocket watch, hoping Ada would take the hint, but it never happened.

Finally, they reached the Second Year hallway. Everything seemed quiet. Too quiet, Hecate thought.

“See, Hecate? They’ve all turned in for the night.”

Hecate wasn’t so sure, so she cast a Locator spell for the usual suspects. Ethel was in her room, but Mildred, Maud and Enid were… on the roof?

“Merlin’s boots,” Hecate muttered. “They haven’t all turned in. Three of them are on the rrroof – and I’ll give you one chance to name all three.”

“Oh, dear…” Ada said, as she let Hecate transfer them both.

****

The wind buffeted against them, knocking Hecate back a step before she could set her feet. “What in blazing cauldrons are they doing up here?” she shouted.

Ada pulled her back towards the tower, out of most of the wind. “I think they might be having a picnic?” She pointed at a lopsided, makeshift blanket fort that had been set up in a protected corner. “Enid did get a rather large package today – a congratulations for winning the Spell Science Fair yesterday, I believe.” She motioned Hecate closer. “Rather clever, if a bit extreme, for avoiding curfew.”

Clutching her sweater tighter under her chin, Ada scurried to the blanket fort, pleasantly relieved to feel Hecate’s warming spell flowing over her. She paused at the entrance, peeping inside the flap. There, huddled together amongst discarded wrappers and half-eaten sweets, were Mildred, Maud, and Enid – fast asleep.

Hecate started to wake them up, but Ada stilled her with a hand on her arm. “They’re all asleep, Hecate. Isn’t that the goal? Perhaps we could just leave them be?”

“Leave them be?” Hecate sputtered in disbelief. “They are out past curfew!”

“I’m well aware, Hecate.” Ada puffed a bit of air in frustration. “Are you telling me that you and Miss Pentangle never had unsanctioned sleepovers as children? Ever?”

That gave Hecate pause. She and Pippa had more than a few sleepovers at Amulet’s. It was something that had kept her sane whenever the other girls or her father had been too much. Maybe Ada was right? After everything that had happened over the last month… Hecate shook her head, clearing the thought from her mind. “We can’t just leave them on the roof, Ada. It would violate a dozen health and safety regulations and at least three subsections of The Code. At least let me transfer them to their rooms?”

“Very well, Hecate, that will be fine.” Ada stepped aside as Hecate worked her magic, sending each girl, and her respective blankets, back to her rooms. “You didn’t send Enid’s parcel back?”

“Surely there must be some consequence for being on the roof after curfew? I’m sending the box to the Confiscation Room.”

“Oh! Well. Let’s not be too hasty.” Hecate smirked as Ada poked through the contents of the box. “Aaah… now here’s something I’ve not had in ages,” she said, holding up a bag of Maltesers. “I rather liked these as a girl.” Ada smiled knowingly at Hecate. “Is there nothing that catches your eye?”

Hecate looked at the contents of the box, her eyes returning again and again to a certain gold package. “Is that House of Dorchester?”

“Why yes, dear, I do believe it is. Rather refined for a twelve-year-old’s palate, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Hecate said, accepting the box. “Tea in your office?”

“Indeed.”


	12. Candy Cane Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the first final exam for the term - Chanting. So why do Mildred, Enid and Maud find themselves marching through the woods?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a bit behind - under the weather and final exams have the upper hand right now, but I hope to get caught up soon.
> 
> This one is by Darius Rucker. Which is cool. But I miss Hootie.
> 
> Heaven help me, Sparky didn’t get to look at this one. All mistakes are truly my own.

“I still don’t understand,” Maud whined as they continued on what felt like an endless hike into the woods. “This is supposed to be our chanting final. Where are we going?”

Dimity forced herself not to roll her eyes. She would, however, give HB a hard time later for being a poor example and making the girls think they could just transfer everywhere. “This is your Chanting final. We’ve hardly been walking more than a quarter hour, anyway. Now, get a move on and catch up to the other girls. It won’t be too long now.”

Making a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine, Maud stumbled forward. Really, Dimity thought, the girls were getting too soft. They’d been coddling them since the Big Freeze. Maybe it was time to take a different approach. “Bloody hell,” she said to herself, “that’s what HB’s been saying all along. I’m going to have to admit she was right. Blood-dy hell.”

Soon, the girls in front could be heard shouting greetings to Miss Bat and Miss Hardbroom. Dimity brought up the rear and arrived just in time to hear Hecate’s voice, magically amplified, calling to the girls.

“Girls! May I remind you that we are not on holiday! You are here for your Chanting exam. Line up!” Hecate pointed imperiously at the ground in front of her.

The girls positioned themselves into tidy rows. They stood in a small clearing, facing a dilapidated cabin, curious faces flickering between Miss Bat, Miss Hardbroom and the cabin. Once the girls were still, Miss Hardbroom bowed slightly to Miss Bat and went to stand next to Dimity.

“Do you think they’ll manage it?” Dimity asked. “I hope it’s not the candy canes that don’t make it this year.”

“Time will tell.” Hecate answered, thinking about the remaining chocolates she’d ‘confiscated’ from Enid Nightshade’s tuck box the night before. She looked for the three in the crowd. Mildred was looking around at everything at once, Enid was smothering a yawn, and Maud was standing with her eyes closed, mumbling to herself. “Time will tell.”

Miss Bat waved her baton, gathering the girls’ attention. “All right, girls. Remember your parts! Stay true, stay strong, stay chanting!” She lifted her arms, waving a four-count in the air with the tip of her baton starting them with a flourish.

 

_We love to go a-wandering through the forest green_

_Until we find the treasure fine that few have ever seen._

_To find the prize we must be wise and sing our song so sweet_

_Until what’s lost has now been found and we can get our treat._

 

 Hecate and Dimity kept their eyes on the cabin. As the girls began the chant for the second time, the edges of the cabin began to shimmer, then melt – revealing colorful, oversized candies and frosting. It faltered a moment as the girls’ excitement threw off their chanting.

“Steady, girls!” Miss Bat called, “Don’t lose your rhythm now!” Dimity’s toe began to tap along and even Hecate tapped her fingers in time to the music.

By the third repetition of the chant, no trace of the cabin remained. In its place stood a giant gingerbread version instead. The ragged thatching had been replaced with thick scallops of frosting and a gumdrop-lined pathway led to a chocolate door. Everywhere they looked the girls spotted oversized peppermints, Smarties, Jelly Babies and more.

Miss Bat held the last note out, giving the chant time to settle and strengthen. Once she lowered her baton, Miss Bat turned to Hecate and Dimity, who were each busily ticking off boxes on a clipboard checklist. “Well?”

Hecate nodded curtly, while Dimity gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Well done, girls! Jolly good show there, eh, HB?”

“That’s it?” Ethel Hallow stepped forward. “That’s our Chanting practical? It’s not fair! Other people could be getting a grade based off my chanting!” None too subtly, Ethel cut her eyes to Mildred, who immediately puffed up like an angry toad.

Miss Bat responded to Ethel’s outburst with a practiced tiresomeness. “Really, Ethel? Do you think I can’t create a simple Cross-Transmogrifying Revelatory Spell to tell me who did what?” Ethel turned to Dimity and HB to continue to plead her case but found two sets of irritated eyes looking back at her.

“Miss Bat?” Felicity waved from the back. “What do we do now?”

“Is it a real gingerbread house?” asked Enid.

“It is, indeed, Miss Nightshade.” Miss Bat turned to the gingerbread house. “To answer your question, Felicity, you do what one should always do when presented a gingerbread house in the woods. You eat it.” She stepped out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed by the stampede of girls racing past.

 

 


	13. Go Tell It On The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some traditions are just meant to be observed – and sledding is one of Bea’s favorites. Now if she and Sybil can just convince Clarice that it’s a good idea… and make it to their chanting final on time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just about everyone seems to have covered Go Tell It On The Mountain, but if you want to do it right, go for Mahalia Jackson’s version. 
> 
> Sparky is back to making me sound literate again. Thank goodness!

“I still don’t see the point,” Clarice insisted, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. “A broom will take you to the bottom of the hill just as quickly.”

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as much fun,” Bea said. “My Gramps takes me sledding every first snow, at least until I started at Cackle’s. C’mon, Clarice, how do you know you won’t like it if you don’t try it?”

“Please? I’ve never done it before, either.” Sybil eyed the slope down the mountain. She’d never thought about how steep it looked before. “Is it safe?”

“Mmmm…” Bea thought a moment, wrinkling her nose in concentration. “Define safe.”

With a heartfelt sigh of defeat, Clarice took the sled from Bea and pointed it down the mountain. “Do you want me to figure our velocity, based on my estimation of our weight and the slope of the hill?”

“NO!” Both girls said at once.

“It’s fine. Really. You sit in the middle, Sybil. I’ll sit in front so I can steer.” Bea sat down in the front of the sled, feet planted firmly in the snow so they wouldn’t start sliding too early. “Clarice, you go in the back. “When I say go, everybody pick their feet up. When I say brake, put them down again. Uh… If it looks like we’re about to hit something, then fall over sideways.”

“To the left or right?” Clarice asked, in all seriousness.

“Right.”

“Wait!” Sybil said, grabbing Bea’s shoulders. “My right or your right?”

“It’s the same right, Sybil. We’re facing the same way.” Bea rolled her eyes, wondering if she shouldn’t have just gone sledding by herself. “Ready? Let’s GO!”

The girls lifted their feet and the sled slowly started sliding down the hill, steadily picking up speed. In only a few seconds, the scenery was flashing by them in a blur. Sybil screamed so loudly that Bea wondered if she’d be able to hear properly ever again. Before she knew it, the edge of the woods was looming up at them.

“BRAKE!” Bea shouted, dropping her feet into the snow. The sled didn’t seem to be slowing down. “PUT YOUR FEET DOWN!” She felt their speed drop as the other two girls finally dug their boots into the snow. At last, just short of the first trees, the sled skidded to a stop.”

“That was BRILLIANT!” Sybil cried, flopping sideways into the snow. “Let’s do it again!”

Clarice looked around, surprised. “It was much more enjoyable than I expected. Who knew it would elevate both my heartrate and my serotonin levels?”

“Does that mean you want to go again, too?” Bea laughed, scrabbling off the sled and onto her feet. “Come on then, we’ve got loads of time before our Chanting exam.”

Giggling and chatting, they climbed back up the hill, eager to go again.

The trouble came just as they were about to start their fourth run.

“GIRLS!” A tall, slender shadow fell across the sled. “You are late for your Chanting exam. Get off that ridiculous contraption at once. Miss Bat is most aggravated.”

“Y-yes, M-miss Hardbroom!” Sybil scampered away, not even waiting for Bea or Clarice.

Clarice hurried along behind her, muttering about being right about sledding being a bad idea. Bea struggled to keep up as she tried to drag the heavy sled behind her.

“Leave it, Miss Bunch. Chanting.”

Bea opened her mouth to argue, but Miss Hardbroom’s stern expression – and slowly rising eyebrow – kept her still. “Yes, Miss Hardbroom.” She put the sled down, turned so it wouldn’t slide down the hill, and moped along after the others. Hecate watched her leave.

Hecate raised a hand to transfer back to the castle, but hesitated, looking at the sled. She had to give Beatrice Bunch some credit – it was a proper sled with wood slats and metal runners, not one of those ghastly plastic jobs the Ordinaries tended to use nowadays.

Of course, Hecate Hardbroom had never had her own sled. Such a thing was much too frivolous for her father. If one was going to be outside on a snowy winter day, one should be contemplating Solstice or Yule. Perhaps gathering cold weather ingredients that couldn’t be found during warmer times, like flakes from a first snowfall, or ice frozen under the second waxing moon of a month, or holly berries frosted at midnight. Certainly, winter was not for sledding.

That is, until Pippa Pentangle had knocked on her door early one Saturday morning during their Fourth Year, dragging along a sled as tall as she was. After a few breathless moments of persuading, Hecate agreed, as they both knew she would, to go sledding with Pippa. Hecate smiled at the memory. Sitting behind Pippa on the sled, arms and legs wrapped tightly around her as they raced down the mountain, hair flying behind them, Hecate Hardbroom fell in love. She didn’t know it at the time, but she certainly knew it now. That was the day that everything began to change, at first for the better. She was more open and accepting of affection and tried to be better about giving it. Until it got harder and harder to keep her feelings for Pippa to herself, and she finally had to leave. “Stop it,” she said to herself. “She’s back. You’re back and you’re trying again.” She smiled at the sled. That day, though, was such a perfect day.

Hecate looked around; the grounds were clear of any girls. She walked around the sled, studying it intently. She poked it with her foot, accidentally sending it down the slope until she caught it with her magic and pulled it back. Looking around one more time, Hecate decided that she was alone. Before she could change her mind, Hecate sat down on the sled, tucking her skirts around her as best she could. Grabbing the steering ropes, she used her magic to give herself a solid push.

Then she was flying down the hill – she could feel tendrils of hair pulling free from her bun, but she didn’t care. She threw her head back and laughed, just as she had over thirty years ago. She laughed so hard that she almost didn’t see the trees coming up fast. She pulled to the left, too hard, and sent herself tumbling into a snowbank on the right, still laughing. Just like the first time with Pippa, she thought. They’d wound up sprawled in the snow as well, ready for another run down the hill.

Hecate climbed to her feet and magicked herself back in order. “Once is enough, today, I think,” she told the sled. “Best quit before someone sees. It won’t do to have them think Miss Hardbroom has gone soft again.”

****

“NOOO…. She didn’t!” Dimity slapped the window frame in Ada’s office. She was staring out the window in disbelief as Hecate Hardbroom mounted a children’s sled.

“I told you she’d do it!” Ada shouted gleefully, watching the tiny figure of Hecate Hardbroom sledding down the hill. “Oh, dear!” She watched Hecate’s wipe out at the end, smiling again as her Deputy rolled over and sat up, clearly enjoying herself.

“I can’t believe she’d pull the broomstick out of her backside long enough to sit down on the sled!”

“Dimity! How very unprofessional!” Ada held her hand out. “Now pay up.”

Dimity shook her head, muttering about Ada having unfair advantages, but she summoned her wallet nonetheless. “Twenty quid,” she said, handing over a bill. “I feel like I’ve been snookered.”

“Don’t think you haven’t,” Ada said, winking as she tucked the twenty into her pocket.


	14. Ugly Christmas Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimity Drill is throwing an ugly jumper party and Hecate is less than thrilled. Only one witch could possibly convince her to play along. Fortunately, Pippa Pentangle is ready and willing to do her part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: slight flashbacks to unhappy childhood memories
> 
> There’s actually a song about ugly Christmas sweaters! By Garth Brooks! Who knew??? 
> 
> Sparky continues to stand against my total disregard for the rules concerning semicolons. We can all thank her for that.
> 
> A note about continuity: I feel there’s probably some areas where continuity is nonexistent. If you are a sharp-eyed reader who notices such things, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Breathless, Pippa transferred directly from the roof into Hecate’s living room. “It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there, Hecate!”

Hecate jumped at her unexpected arrival, sending the tea service she was setting on the coffee table crashing onto the carpet. Annoyed, she waved her hand, cleaning up the mess and starting a new pot to boiling. “Pippa! I can’t believe you use such vulgar Ordinary expressions.” She helped Pippa out of her cloak. It was freezing. “It’s not even accurate. Your…” she waved in the general direction of Pippa’s chest, “well, they’ll be the same 37C as the rest of you.”

“Yours maybe, Hiccup. I can assure you that this witch’s tits are absolutely freezing – along with the rest of her.” She accepted Hecate’s help with her cloak gratefully. “At least it’s warm in here.” She moved to stand in front of the fire, closing her eyes as she luxuriated in its warmth. After a few moments she opened her eyes to find Hecate staring at her in wide-eyed horror.

“W-w-w-what are your wearing?” A thin, trembling finger pointed at Pippa’s chest.

“What? This?” Pippa thrust her chest out, grinning broadly. “Today was ugly jumper day at school. Don’t you love it?” She flipped up the hem and pressed a button. “Even better, right?”

Hecate took an involuntary step back. The jumper was… hideous. It was green, somewhere between kelly and lime, with white and yellow stripes at the collar and cuffs. A large gray and white tabby cat covered the chest. Hecate leaned closer… the cat appeared to be wearing…antlers? A string of colored holiday lights wrapped around the cat. The button Pippa pressed set the lights to flashing. In garish red stitching, that didn’t go with anything else, were the words “Meowy Christmas.”

“I don’t know what to say, Pipsqueak. That is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Pippa settled onto the sofa and poured a cup of tea for herself and another for Hecate. “I didn’t even win the vote. Mr. Whitewood, the Modern Witchory teacher, beat mine by leaps and bounds.”

“I can hardly imagine what it must have looked like.”

“You don’t have to!” Pippa summoned her maglet from her satchel and showed Hecate a picture.

“Merlin’s beard, Pippa. That’s… that sweater is an offense against man and Mother Nature.” She handed the maglet back, trying to scrub the image from her mind. “When did these…ugly jumper…festivities become popular? I believe Miss Drill is hosting a similar event tomorrow night for the staff.” Hecate crossed the room to get a plate of biscuits from the kitchenette.

“Oh, Hecate, what fun!” Pippa placed her tea back on the coffee table. “Don’t hold out on me! What does your jumper look like? Let me see!”

Pippa was bouncing up and down on the sofa like an excited schoolgirl. Hecate hated to burst her bubble of happiness. “I don’t have one. I wasn’t planning on attending, much less wearing something like that.”

“Come on, Hecate! It’s all meant to be in good fun!” She watched as Hecate tensed, arms moving to her sides. “Hecate?”

“Good fun for others…” Hecate began, eyes taking on a far-away cast. She couldn’t finish and looked away, hurriedly scrubbing at her eyes.

“Come here, Hiccup,” Pippa patted the sofa next to her. “Please?” She waited. And waited. Eventually, Hecate returned, lowering herself gingerly onto the edge of the sofa. “Good fun always used to come at your expense, I know that, Hiccup.” Hecate still wouldn’t meet her eyes, so Pippa reached across and laced their fingers together. “I don’t think Dimity planned a party just to make fun of you. Do you?”

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t even invited to her last party.” Hecate’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat, obviously irritated at its betrayal.

“Darling, this is not Amulet’s. You have friends here, and they want to spend time with you.” Pippa could see Hecate’s eyes shining. “You know that Ada loves you. So does Gwen. And I hate to tell you this, but Dimity Drill idolizes you. That’s why she gives you a hard time.”

Hecate finally raised her eyes, the doubt still clearly evident.

Pippa leaned into Hecate, resting her chin against her shoulder. “Remember how Miss Greengrass would give Miss  Nightwind a hard time? How she was always teasing her? I always thought they didn’t like each other, but… it turns out they were best friends. I think Dimity teases you because it’s the one way she knows she can get your attention.”

Hecate still didn’t speak, but Pippa could see that she was thinking it over. “I don’t know… How am I supposed to respond to that? I’m her supervisor.”

“You are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease her back. Just like when you were making the cookies. Just like Ada sometimes teases you. It means she’s fond of you.” Pippa squeezed her hands tighter.

“I… You…” She blew out a long breath. “I’ll have to take your word for it; you’ve always been better at reading social cues.”

“Do you think you’ll go to the party, then? You know Ada would be delighted.” Pippa sat up but kept their fingers laced together.

“Maybe. I don’t have…” She nodded at Pippa’s sweater, distaste still creeping through.

Pippa laughed at that – a bright, tinkling sound that lifted Hecate’s spirits immediately. “That, darling Hiccup, is a problem that’s easily solved.” She gave Hecate’s hand one last squeeze before standing. “Do you still have the purple jumper I borrowed a couple of weeks ago?”

Hecate nodded, summoning it immediately.

“Thank you.” Pippa took a step back and without any warning pulled her cat jumper over her head, handing it to a startled Hecate who was trying to look anywhere except at the sudden expanse of bare skin. Pippa tossed a wink her way before pulling on Hecate’s jumper. “Just wear mine. It should fit just fine – and it will certainly fit in.”

Too gobsmacked to speak, Hecate nodded. She took a few moments to gather her thoughts while she folded Pippa’s sweater. Finally, she squeaked out a “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. And tomorrow night, no matter how late, I want you to mirror me. I want to hear all about this party. Every. Sordid. Detail.”

“I will, tomorrow night, no matter how late.” Hecate nodded, and Pippa could see some of the tension leaving her body. She continued to stare at the sweater, running a finger from one flashing light to the next.

“Here,” Pippa leaned forward and found the control for the lights. “You turn them on and off with this.” She looked up, smiling, her face inches from Hecate’s. She could see something shift in Hecate’s eyes. A warmth that she hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. “You’ll knock their hats off.” She stood up before she did something that would throw their new relationship into a tailspin. Like kiss Hecate. “Now… I believe you owe me a chance to even up the record.” She waved her hand, magically setting up the chessboard and summoning a plate of lemon-basil biscuits. She pretended to ponder her first move, giving Hecate time to collect herself.

After a few moments, Hecate gently set the jumper aside and took up her place opposite Pippa. “I believe it will take more than one game to ‘even up the record’ as you say.” She nibbled a biscuit as Pippa made her opening move.

****

Hours later, Hecate had increased her lead by another two games and Pippa had been bundled up and sent back to Pentangle’s, wearing Hecate’s sweater and a cloak charmed with a warming spell. Before Pippa left, she’d made Hecate promise once again to mirror her after the party.

Alone in her rooms again, Hecate picked up Pippa’s sweater. It was still hideous, but… She held it up to her face, breathing in the scent of Pippa’s perfume. Maybe not so hideous after all, she thought, as she turned out the lights and went to prepare for bed and wait for Pippa to message that she’d arrived home safely.


	15. Celebrate Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimity Drill’s ugly jumper party is in the books and Hecate is ready to report back to Pippa. The question is… did she have a good time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really aren’t any holiday songs about parties, which seems odd. We shall have to muddle through with this one by Kenny Loggins. 
> 
> This is another feral fic that appeared without Sparky’s approval or intervention.

“Pippa!” Hecate called softly into her vanity mirror. She didn’t want to startle Pippa awake, but she had promised that she would mirror after Dimity’s ugly jumper party. “Pippa Pentangle! Are you there?”

Hecate flipped open her pocket watch. It was just after midnight. Frankly, she would not have expected Pippa to be asleep this early on a Friday night. Perhaps she was out? Frowning, Hecate leaned back in her chair. She supposed she could send Pippa a message on her maglet to let her know she was back. Then Pippa could mirror her. Though… Hecate would expect to be asleep by midnight on a Friday. She doubted she would be able to sleep if she was waiting for Pippa to mirror her.

She was just about to cut the connection when she saw a flash of light in the corner of the mirror. “Pippa? Is that you?” She resisted the urge to knock on the glass.

“Hiccup! You’re back from your party so soon?” Pippa hurried to her vanity mirror, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe and still towel drying her hair. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I didn’t expect you back just yet.”

Hecate swallowed. Several times. She hoped the fairly dim lighting of her bedroom would mask the color she could feel creeping up her throat. “No! I mean… I just got in.”

“And?” Pippa tossed her towel onto the bed behind her before reaching across the vanity to pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Did you have a good time?”

Blinking rapidly, Hecate tried to ignore the way Pippa’s robe gaped when she leaned forward to pick up her comb. She tried to ignore the way tan skin, curved and still damp from the shower, glistened in the dim light. She wanted to speak but couldn’t push the words past the lump in her throat, so she nodded.

“Well, tell me all about it, darling! How did your jumper compare to the rest?” Pippa summoned a blue pump bottle and squirted a tiny bit of liquid into her hands. She rubbed her hands together before she began smoothing the liquid into the ends of her hair.

Pippa hadn’t changed a bit, Hecate realized, at least in this one small, intimate way. Just like she’d been back at Amulet’s, Pippa didn’t think twice about performing her nightly routine in front of her. Realizing that she would be watching Pippa get ready for bed, Hecate breathed in and out for a count of ten before she tried to answer. “It was perfect, actually, on par with most of the others,” she finally managed, “except for Dimity’s. She managed to obtain the most vulgar jumper depicting Santa Claus urinating on a rooftop. He was writing ‘Merry Christmas’ in the snow.”

Pippa snickered – deliciously as far as Hecate was concerned. “Dimity won then? Seems unsporting to take the prize at her own soiree.”

“Actually…” Hecate reached into a pocket of her skirt and pulled out a brightly colored bit of folded fabric. Already second-guessing even mentioning it, but knowing it was too late to back out now, she unfolded it and slipped a fabric crown onto her head. Purple and gold velvet, it had the word ‘WINNER’ stitched across the front. “Hold on,” Hecate slipped her fingers under the crown, feeling around until she found a button and pressed it. Tiny lights lit up all around the edges. “It seems that I won…though I rather doubt it was for the cleverness of my jumper – your jumper, to be precise. I expect I won simply because no one thought I would participate in the first place.”

Both hands were clasped tightly over Pippa’s mouth, but Hecate could see her eyes shining and her shoulders shaking. “Oh, Hiccup!” she said, at last. “How marvelous is that? Did you wear it? Please tell me that you did!”

“In for a penny, in for a pound, Pipsqueak. I did indeed.” Pippa’s delighted laughter warmed Hecate more than the sight of her in her bathrobe did. Somehow, she’d always been able to tell that Pippa never laughed at her expense. “Dimity also had some other party games that weren’t too obnoxious.”

“What about food and drinks? How was that?” Pippa asked, her voice the barest bit over bright.

Hecate knew what Pippa was really asking her. Pippa wanted to know if she was still anxious about eating food she hadn’t prepared. She took a moment to think about it before she answered. “Dimity actually put out a lovely selection of appetizers. And Ada provided the wine from the castle’s cellar. It was quite delicious.” She looked Pippa straight in the eye. “I didn’t have any trouble. I-I hope that has largely passed.”

“I’m so glad, darling. I hope it has, as well.” Pippa picked up a jar of cream, moisturizer, Hecate guessed, and began rubbing it into her face, throat and chest. Hecate felt her cheeks flushing again. “So, tell me about the games. Maybe I can borrow one or two and we can do something different at our next staff night.”

Haltingly at first, Hecate told Pippa about her night. She described each person’s jumper, sending Pippa into fits of laughter when she described Gwen and Algie’s coordinating his-and-hers set that somehow managed to incorporate musical holiday frogs. She told Pippa about every morsel she’d tasted, leaving the blonde shaking her head at the woeful lack of sweets. They talked about the different wines Ada brought, comparing their own likes and dislikes. As the hour grew later, Hecate’s self-consciousness fell away, and soon they were talking as if they were still schoolgirls at Amulet’s, trading the days gossip and rambling on about anything that came to mind.

By the time they said goodnight, it was almost three in the morning. Hecate was exhausted in the very best way. As she lay in bed that night, staring at their photograph on her nightstand, she started to feel that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to one another.

 

 


	16. Lil Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exams are over and Mildred is itching for something to do. When she convinces Enid and Maud to build snowmen the Ordinary way, they get some help from a very unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil Snowman… yet another holiday song I’d never heard of…by Mariah Carey
> 
> Thanks again to Sparky. She’s getting more familiar than she ever expected to be with The Worst Witch.
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

“That’s it then,” Enid said as she slammed the door behind her. “I guess I’ll be applying to Wormwood’s Academy next term.” She flopped dramatically onto Mildred’s bed. Maud barely managed to snatch her Witchory book out of the way.

“Enid! You’ll tear a page!” Maud clutched the book to her chest. Mildred looked up from her sketchbook and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t even know why you still have it out,” Enid pouted, rolling on to her side. “You finished your last exam an hour ago. Are you revising just for fun now?”

“I wanted to see if I got that last question right.” Maud pushed her glasses further up on her nose. “Don’t you want to know how you did on the test?”

“Why would I want to do that? Miss Bat will tell us soon enough.” She bounced up onto her knees. “So what are we going to do now? I’m bored.”

“Bored? You’ve been finished for all of fifteen minutes!” Maud tucked her textbook back into her bag. “All of the exams aren’t even over yet.”

“I know…that’s why we’re still under quiet hours and there’s nothing fun to do…” Enid tossed a pillow at Mildred. “Aren’t you bored? You’ve been finished longest of all.”

“Nope. Not at all bored. I’ve been finishing my mum’s Christmas present.” She turned her sketchbook around and showed her friends. Mildred’s mother danced a traditional witch’s dance across the paper, accompanied by Miss Drill and a handful of other students.

“Oooh, Millie…that’s nice…” Maud leaned closer and studied the girls in the picture. “Why aren’t you in it?”

“Thanks. I’m not in it because I was standing against the wall talking to HB.” Mildred closed her sketchbook and set it on her desk. “Is it just me, or is it feeling colder.” She moved to the window and looked out. “When did it start snowing? Look!” The three of them jostled for position as they peered through the swirling snow outside. “I know what we could do for fun.”

“I don’t think I like that tone,” Maud said, peering cautiously into the courtyard, trying to see through the flurries just outside the window. “We’re in quiet hours due to testing, Millie. You know that.”

“Inside the castle, Maud. The quiet hours are only inside the castle. We can go out and build a snowman. And now that my Spell Science Fair project works, we can bring it inside.”

“Oh! We could do that,” Maud exclaimed. “My Dad taught me a spell that makes the most perfect snowmen!”

“Not with magic, Maud. Have you ever built one with your hands? Without magic? This new snow over the old snow is perfect for snowmen.”

“Why wouldn’t you use magic?” Enid asked, scrunching up her nose. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Because it’s fun, silly.” Mildred rushed to her cupboard and started pulling out her warmest clothes. “It isn’t cold if you keep moving. C’mon…it’ll be fun.”

Maud and Enid exchanged worried looks. “No magic?”

“Yep. We’ll make them with our own two hands.  Unless you’re a scaredy bat?”

Enid’s face shifted into a determined frown. “I’m not scared of a little cold and snow. Are you Maud?”

“Really? You’re going to be manipulated that easily?” Maud crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared back. She lasted only until Enid arched an eyebrow at her. “Fine. But we get hot chocolate when we come back inside. I know your parents put some in your last tuck box, Enid.”

“Deal.” Mildred began wrapping her scarf around her neck. “You’ll love it.” She headed into the hallway. “Let’s go get your cloaks.”

Maud and Enid followed in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Enid muttered to herself as they went, “I don’t see why Mildred gets to give away the hot chocolate from my tuck box.”

**** 

“Where are you going?” Bea asked, stopping short and causing Clarice and Sybil to run into her. “Why are you wearing all of those clothes?

“We’re gonna make snowmen outside. We’re tired of being cooped up in the castle,” Mildred answered.

“That sounds fun. My mum taught me a spell to build a snow fort—”

“No magic, Bea. That’s the rule.” Maud cast a scathing glance at Mildred, who simply rolled her eyes. “Millie insists it will be fun.”

“You mean make snowmen like the Ordinaries do?” Sybil clapped her hands together. “Oh, please, can we come too? It’ll be just like in that movie Frozen.” She looked at the blank faces of her other two First Years. “You haven’t seen Frozen?”

“Why would I watch that?” Clarice asked, serious eyes glancing around her. “I know what happens to water when the temperature drops. I’d also think that you four, of all people, wouldn’t want to go anywhere near anything frozen.”

“This is different, Clarice.” Sybil twirled herself around the narrow hallway, singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?”

“Not particularly, but Millie’s making us,” Maud snorted.

“You don’t have to come, you know.” Mildred said, finally exasperated. “You can stay in the castle where it’s freezing anyway and not have a good time with your friends.”

“Come on, Bea…Come on, Clarice…let’s go with them. We’ve finished all of our tests!” After a bit more cajoling, Sybil managed to persuade them to join in. In a rush of excitement, Sybil and Bea managed to drag Clarice along to get their heavy cloaks.

“We’ll see you outside, then!” Mildred called after them, before Maud shushed her for violating Quiet Hours.  “Come on, then, last one outside is a frozen glob of toad spittle!”

They raced through the corridor, stifling their giggles until they reached the outside. Or until they almost did. Rounding the last corner, they ran straight into Miss Cackle and Miss Bat.

“Girls! Where on earth are going in such a rush! You know we don’t run in the corridors.”

“Sorry, Miss Cackle, we were just…” Mildred looked back and forth between Maud and Enid, suddenly unsure if this was a good idea. “Well. You see. We were just…”

“Mildred is making us go outside to make snowmen – without magic!” Maud finished, in a tone that left no doubt that she expected Miss Cackle to put an immediate stop to this foolishness. She should have known better.

“Oh, that sounds like great fun, doesn’t it, Miss Bat?” Miss Cackle stepped away from the door. “Everyone is well practiced in their warming spells, right girls?”

“Yes, Miss Cackle,” they chorused.

“Then have a lovely time – I’ll pop out in a bit to see what you’ve made.” Ada winked a blue eye at them. “Maybe I’ll even build a snowwitch or two myself.” She turned to Gwen. “I’ll bet some nice hot cocoa would be just the thing for when these girls come inside, what do you think?”

“Oh, I think that would be lovely,” Gwen answered, their voices disappearing down the corridor.

The girls exchanged one last set of looks before rushing outside into the snow, whooping like banshees once they’d left the castle. In a few minutes, Clarice, Bea, and Sybil joined them with Ethel, Felicity and Grace in tow.

****

Enid stole another sidelong glance at the looming snow-Cackle’s Ethel was making on the other side of the courtyard. “You have to admit that it’s pretty good.”

Mildred put the finishing touches on Mr. Rowan-Webb’s snow beard. “Of course, it looks good, Enid, they used magic. Missed the whole point, didn’t they?” She stared at the castle. “Felicity and Grace don’t seem to be having much fun, do they?”

“They certainly do not!” Miss Cackle said from behind them. “Now what do we have here, girls? That one looks suspiciously like Mr. Rowan-Webb…”

“Miss Cackle!” The girls scrambled around to the front of their snowwitches.

“Well…you see…” Maud stammered, pushing her glasses up with one gloved hand.

“Since they made Cackle’s, we made the teachers,” Clarice deadpanned. “Seemed the right thing to do.”

“I see… so it is Mr. Rowan-Webb then.” Ada appraised the sculpture. “And let me guess…Miss Bat is next to him?” The snowwitch looked vaguely like Miss Bat…but it also looked vaguely like the next two sculptures in the line - one of which she knew had to be her and one had to be Miss Drill. She knew better than to try and guess which snowwitch was which.  “And this must be Miss Hardbroom?” That, at least, she was fairly sure about – tall, a hat sculpted on top of her head…the girls had used thinner snow ovals instead of snow balls to make it. They’d even positioned the twig arms so they hung directly down its sides. “Fine job on her, girls. Fine job.”

“You don’t know who the others are, though, do you Miss Cackle?” Sybil looked up from the one Ada guessed was Miss Bat.

“Well…snow is a tricky medium, wouldn’t you say, Mildred?” She clapped her hands together. “I know just what these need. Let me just fetch a few things; meanwhile, I think you need to add a bit more around the middle of mine.” That way I can at least know which one it is, she thought as she transferred away.

“I told you not to do the teachers,” Ethel said, appearing next to Maud as if out of nowhere. “You’ll be in detention for sure.”

“We will not…”

“Here we are, girls” Ada said as she popped back into the courtyard, now wearing a heavier cloak and carrying an armful of supplies. “Well met, Ethel. I see your group decided to forego doing things the Ordinary way?”

“Why would we want to be like…” she shot a nasty glance Mildred’s way, “Ordinaries?”

“Because they often are much better at having fun than we are. It doesn’t do to assume that Ordinary people have nothing to offer, Ethel.” Ada stared at the girl over her glasses. “After all, where would we all be if not for Mildred’s mother?”

Ethel scuffed her boot through the scrubby snow. “We’d still be frozen, Miss Cackle.”

“Quite likely, Ethel. Mildred’s mother – an Ordinary – saved all of us.” She turned back to the snowwitches, momentarily taken aback by the…amount… of snow they’d added to her middle. “All right girls, let’s accessorize, shall we?” She set her bundle in the snow.  “Here you go, for Miss Bat…” She handed Maud a slim wooden baton. “Tuck that up into her hair, Maud. That will be lovely.”

“Yes, Miss Cackle.”

“Mildred, I believe you know what to do with these,” she said, handing the girl her old glasses. “Now then, Miss Nightshade, let’s get Miss Drill’s accessory attached. Hold that ball right there and I’ll step around behind and build up the snow to hold it in place.”

Mildred was carefully pushing the earpieces into the snowwitch’s head when a dark shadow fell across them.

“Whhh-at do you think you are doing, Mil-dred Hub-ble? Where did you get those eyeglasses?” Hecate’s eyes scoured the snow sculptures. “This is completely…”

“Delightful, don’t you think, Miss Hardbroom?” Ada finished, leaning around Miss Drill’s doppleganger. “They’ve done an outstanding job capturing our likenesses, don’t you think?”

Hecate took a quick step back. “M-Miss Cackle?” Her eyes darted from Ada to the girls, brows nearly disappearing into her hairline.

“Will you help us finish, Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred asked. “It’s hard to reach the top of your hat.”

“We’ve been having a lovely time, Hecate. No magic.” Ada smirked up at her, eyes shining with mirth.

“I… no…” A pained expression crossed her face before she gave in. “I’d be delighted, Miss Cackle.” She stepped over to the Hecate snowwitch. She had to admit that they hadn’t been…cruel or mocking when they sculpted it. They’d even recreated her watch from a stone from the pond. Sighing, she cast a warming spell on her hands and scooped up some snow. It melted almost immediately. Without thinking, she tried again. Again, the snow melted right away. She heard Mildred giggling behind. “What is so funny?”

“You can’t use a warming spell on snow, Miss Hardbroom.”

Hecate opened her mouth to reply before snapping her jaw closed. Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She hoped Ada and the girls would assume it was from the cold. “Certainly not, Mildred,” she said, just to have some sort of response.

“Here Miss Hardbroom, I have two pairs of gloves on. You can borrow a pair of mine.” Mildred pulled her outer gloves off and held them out to Miss Hardbroom.

Hecate could have simply summoned her own gloves. She knew that. But…Mildred was showing her a kindness – she knew that as well. Mildred Hubble, who’d offered up her family’s magic again to save them. The life that she had, that she cherished, existed today because this girl had been willing to make that sacrifice. Smiling slightly, Hecate reached out and took the gloves. “Thank you, Mildred.” She took the gloves, already warmed from Mildred’s hands, and slipped them on. “The top of the hat, you say?”

Hecate leaned over to scoop up more snow. Suddenly, a snowball exploded against her backside. Whipping upright she turned to Mildred, but the girl was just staring at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She turned to the rest of the girls. All stood stiff and staring.

All save one. One, sixty-something, guilty-looking girl who couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I see. Ada. That’s how it’s going to be.” She held up a hand, still bundled in Mildred’s glove, and muttered under her breath. Snow began swirling around her, condensing into a tiny snow tornado.

“Now, Hecate…it was just one little snowball…” Ada tried to edge behind Enid. “The children…”

“Uh-oh,” Enid murmured. “They’re using first names again…that’s still a bad sign.” She dodged the flying snow, leaving it to hit Miss Cackle head on.

Before they knew it, the air was filled with snow and Miss Cackle and Miss Hardbroom were transferring from one side of the courtyard to the other, trying to bury the other in snow each time she appeared.

Later, in the Great Hall, where red-faced girls warmed up with hot chocolate, Miss Hardbroom appeared, bun loose and cheeks pink. “Thank you for the use of your gloves, Miss Hubble.”

“Did you win your snowball fight with Miss Cackle?” Mildred asked as she took the gloves.

Hecate rocked her head back and forth, pretending to think about it for a moment. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re referring to… but if I were to participate in something as foolish as a snowball fight with Miss Cackle…” She winked at Mildred. “I assure you I would win.” With that she raised a hand and transferred away.

 


	17. Winter Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A winter storm delays everyone’s holiday departure. What do you do with a castle full of cooped up girls? Ada has a few ideas – but if Hecate can survive the day, it will be a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A brief mention of what happens to frogs in a witching academy
> 
> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist. 
> 
> Well, I’m not getting caught up, exactly… but at least I’m not falling further behind. Winter Winds is by Mumford and Sons.
> 
> This fic bubbled into my brain after a fabulous drawing by @saltbroom showed up on my tumblr dash. I lost it for a bit, but @emiline-northeto found it for me again.
> 
> Thanks again to Sparky. She’s getting more familiar than she ever expected to be with The Worst Witch.
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Peering out the window, Ada strained to make out anything through the swirling snow. As the sun rose, Ada had hoped that visibility would improve. Instead, all that changed was the curtain of precipitation shifting from an inky whirling mass, to a gray one, to the current white one.

Hecate stood at her shoulder, studying the weather report on her maglet. “It’s too big for a weather spell, even if we all joined powers.” She tapped the screen and frowned. “According to the Ordinary weather, the storm has settled in for the time being.”

Ada gazed out the window again. “I do hope Dimity is managing. Perhaps—”

A blast of snow and cold air exploded into the middle of Ada’s office, sending furniture and people flying in all directions. In the quiet aftermath, the only sound was Dimity Drill, gasping for breath as she lay on the floor, a tangled mess of limbs, robes and broomstick.

“Dimity!” Ada and Algie rushed to help the flying instructor sit up while Hecate quickly magicked the room back into order. “Are you hurt?”

Dimity shook her head. “I don’t think so… knackered, mostly. It’s an absolute whiteout, Miss Cackle. I couldn’t even see the castle.” Slowly, with a bit of assistance from Ada, she climbed to her feet. Algernon took her cloak. “I had to transfer in at speed. Sorry about the mess.” Ada helped her to sit by the fire while Hecate made her a cup of tea.

“No sugar, just milk, correct?” Hecate held out a cup.

Dumbfounded, Dimity stammered up at Hecate, “Wh- you… You know how I take my tea?”

Hecate started to reply with a sarcastic remark, but then she remembered what Pippa had said about Dimity idolizing her. “I know how all my friends take their tea, Dimity. Now drink yours.” She gave Dimity’s shoulder a squeeze on her way to speak with Ada.

“That settles it, Hecate. We cannot permit the girls to leave the castle until the storm has passed.” She shook her head. “If the Star of the Sky can’t fly through it…”

“Quite right, Ada.” Hecate thought a moment before turning to Mr. Rowan-Webb. “If you and Miss Bat would please begin contacting the parents and letting them know that we will not be allowing the girls to fly themselves home until the storm has passed. If a parent or guardian would like to come and physically collect their student, they will need to speak with Miss Cackle directly to schedule a time. Any girl not collected by her parents will remain here until the storm clears.” Algie nodded before leaving with Gwen to make the notifications.

Turning back to Ada, Hecate checked her pocket watch and began formulating a plan. “I’ll have the staff prepare lessons for the girls who aren’t picked up. We’ll use the time productively, have no fear.”

“Oh! Well… Yes… that is certainly a very… responsible option, Hecate. Quite responsible.” Ada twisted the hem of her jumper, fussing with a loose thread.

Hecate narrowed her eyes. “Then why do I feel as though that is exactly the opposite of what will happen?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a day of camaraderie. Team building, if you will.” Ada could see that Hecate wasn’t buying it. “Fine. A games day then.” She watched her deputy stiffen. “The term is over, and we all should be relaxing as it is.” Ada turned to include Dimity. “I shall leave the two of you to work out the details. Together. I believe there are more than a few games in the Confiscation Cupboard. Feel free to use any of those that seem appropriate – not the Cards Against Humanity, please.” Ada checked the time. “Shall we start right after lunch? Which reminds me…” Ada wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I shall go inform Miss Tapioca that her break has also been delayed.”

****

How? Hecate wondered from her hidden spot, pressed against the cool stone wall of the Great Hall. Fewer than half the girls remained at the castle. How were they able to make twice the noise of the full complement of students? They’d gathered the girls together in the Great Hall; warming spells kept the large room comfortable in spite of the freezing weather.

A roar of triumph erupted from the group of girls gathered around Dimity’s enormous Ordinary television set. Hecate hadn’t even known Dimity owned a television – not that it surprised her. As she watched, the girls started a choreographed dance that involved shaking their hips and waving their arms around wildly. She’d been certain that none of the students would have been familiar with Ordinary video games, but Dimity had simply shrugged and said, ‘wait and see.’ Clearly, she’d been wrong. The girls were most excited to discover that Miss Drill had access to Dance Dance Revolution, Mario Kart and Fortnite. Hecate had watched a few minutes of the games – immediately insisting that only the upper grades would play Fortnite.

Another burst of laughter and the sound of overturned chairs drowned out the video gamers. She started to tell them to settle down but stopped herself when she realized that the pink sweater crawling out from under the table, clutching a spoon, was Ada herself.

Hecate scanned the room, looking for the Academy’s resident troublemaker. She spotted Ethel amongst a group of girls playing a round of magical musical chairs. She was pleased to see that Esme and Sybil were with her. Perhaps they could keep Ethel’s propensity for mischief contained.

Next, Hecate looked for the Academy’s resident trouble-magnet. She didn’t see Mildred anywhere. Suddenly alert, Hecate stepped off the wall. “Where are you, Mildred Hub-ble?” she said to herself.

“Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred was standing at her elbow, looking up at her expectantly.

It was only years of enduring the practical jokes from Amulet’s or the sudden squeals of girls at Cackle’s that kept Hecate from jumping out of her skin. “What is it, Mildred? Why aren’t you playing with Maud and Enid?”

“Well, you see… that’s what I came to ask you…” Mildred held up a red box. “We want to play Uno and we need a fourth…”

Hecate waited for Mildred to finish. Mildred just continued to look up at her expectantly. Oh. “Are you asking me to be… your fourth?”

“Will you? Please, Miss Hardbroom?”

Truly, today could not get any worse, Hecate thought. “I have no doubt that you could find a more suitable player.” Her eyes roved the room. Everyone else did seem to be involved in some activity or another. Dimity was still with the video gamers, though the girls seemed to be trying to teach her how to do some sort of… dance? Convulsion? Something that involved swinging her arms back and forth across her hips as they swayed in the opposite direction. Hecate had seen frogs dropped in a cauldron move with more grace. She made a mental note to harass Dimity about her decided lack of success later. Ada was still playing Spoons, and Gwen and Algie were nowhere to be found.

“That’s okay, Miss Hardbroom.” Mildred shrugged. “We can find something else to do.”

Hecate pursed her lips, knowing she would regret this later. “Wait, Mildred. It doesn’t appear that there is anyone else. I will join you, however, I’m afraid I don’t know how to play.”

Mildred’s whole body shook with excitement. “Oh! It’s easy! But… it’s still fun! Thank you, Miss Hardbroom!” She raced back to the table where Maud and Enid were waiting, looking both pleased and terrified.

Steeling herself against whatever awaited her, Hecate joined the girls at the table. The rules seemed simple enough, with just enough strategy to be entertaining. Hecate lost the first round spectacularly. Enid tried not to gloat but failed just as spectacularly.

“Very well, Miss Nightshade,” Hecate drawled. “Now that we’ve had our practice match, I suggest we play… first to three?” Three heads nodded eagerly.

****

“Hah! Draw four, HB!” Enid crowed. “You aren’t winning this time.”

Hecate took her required cards. She felt like she was holding half the deck. Mildred and Enid had figured out they could team up against her, playing cards to change the direction of gameplay or force her to draw whenever they could.  She loosed a tiny stream of magic into the cards and waited, careful to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

Soon enough, Maud played a draw card against Mildred. As Mildred reached for the deck, the required four cards flew out of the stack, flying across the table and striking a stunned Mildred in the chest.

“Maud!” Mildred giggle-glared at her friend.

“I didn’t do it!” Maude looked at Enid. “It must have been Enid!”

“It wasn’t me!” Enid poked suspiciously at the stack of cards.

The girls looked back and forth among themselves before finally turning wide eyes towards Hecate. “Miss Hardbroom! It was you!” Maud exclaimed.

Hecate let the smug smile show, just enough. “I believe it’s my turn,” she said, laying down a stack of cards. She left the spell on the deck, somehow not minding quite so much when the squeals of laughter came from her table.

 


	18. Stars of Glory, Shine More Brightly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm has passed. In its absence, Hecate finally finds a little peace and quiet. When Pippa chimes in with a late-night mirror call, Hecate discovers she might have found a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist. This whole thing is really a slow burn leading up to that.
> 
> This title is from a hymn written by Frederic Charles Husenbeth in the 1800’s.
> 
> Sparky’s still hanging in there and proofing for me.

It was the silence that woke her, Hecate decided – the peaceful, blessed, welcome respite of silence. All day she’d been trapped in the Great Hall while girls howled all around her and the blizzard howled outside the castle walls. When Ada had finally decided to shut down the games, pop some popcorn and show some holiday videos, Hecate had foolishly thought she might be able to escape. Unfortunately, she’d been forced to sit through ‘Hilda the Helpful Snowwitch,’ ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,’ and ‘The Witch Who Saved Solstice.’ It was nearly midnight before Hecate had finally fled to her quarters, craving quiet and solitude.

All she’d found was solitude, however. The roar of the blizzard was too much to be overcome by a simple silencing spell. Now the roaring wind had fallen silent, and Hecate could feel a tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying drain away.

She wondered, briefly, if her reaction was due to the storm’s ferocity or if it was simply another, lingering response to being frozen herself. No matter, she thought. The why was less important than controlling the what. And she would control the what.

Breathing in for a count of eight, Hecate concentrated on feeling the expansion of her ribcage and the stretch of her lungs as they filled with air. She slowly exhaled through her pursed lips, noting the way her body contracted as the air left her. She repeated this twice and was just about to begin a third when she heard a voice whispering from her vanity mirror.

“Hecate? Can you hear me?”

Hecate sat up to find Pippa Pentangle, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe, her hair wild from sleep, smiling sheepishly back at her. “Pippa?”

“Hiccup! Are you awake?”

A memory flooded Hecate’s brain. During their…Fourth Year? Yes. October of their Fourth Year, the first clear night after two solid weeks of rain.

 

_“Hiccup! Are you awake?”_

_Hecate could feel Pippa tugging at her blankets. “It’s past curfew, Pipsqueak…” she mumbled into her pillow. “Miss Amulet will give you detention if she catches you out again.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to pull her blankets up over her head. Pippa wasn’t having it._

_“But listen, Hecate… Can you hear it?” Pippa abandoned the blanket and instead used her hip to bustle Hecate over until she could sit down and lean against the headboard. She played with the end of Hecate’s ponytail. “Listen, Hiccup!”_

_A great yawn escaped as Hecate rolled onto her side, burrowing into Pippa’s thigh. “I don’t know what you’re on about… I don’t hear anyth—” Hecate’s eyes popped open. “Oh! The rain has stopped?”_

_“There she is!” Pippa smothered her giggle behind a hand. “Finally! I feel like I haven’t seen the sun since last term!”_

_Hecate leaned across Pippa’s legs and fetched her pocket watch from the night table. “And you aren’t about to see it now at…” she flipped the watch open and squinted, “at one o’clock in the morning.” She finally noticed that Pippa wasn’t wearing her pajamas. “Why are you wearing your cloak?”_

_“Come on, Hiccup, don’t you want to see the sky? It’s been raining for days. Please come to the roof with me?”_

_Hecate flopped onto her back, giving up on sleep for the foreseeable future. “We’ll get in trouble.”_

_“Only if we get caught.” Pippa poked Hecate’s ribs. “Please? If you come, we can always say you’re tutoring me in astronomy.” She hopped off the bed and went to pull Hecate’s cloak out of the cupboard._

_Hecate missed Pippa’s warmth immediately. Pushing herself up to sit cross-legged on the bed, Hecate yawned again – and got hit in the face by her robe as it came flying out of the cupboard. “I haven’t said yes, you know.”_

_“I know,” Pippa said, smiling impishly as she held out Hecate’s coat, “but you will.”_

_“I will…” Hecate sighed in mock aggrievement but climbed out of bed anyway. She slipped her shoes onto her feet and her pocket watch over her neck. “If we wind up in detention…”_

_“If we wind up in detention, I’ll do your chanting homework for a week.”_

_“You know I’d never…” Hecate saw Pippa’s lips twitch and knew she was teasing. “If we wind up in detention, you can… you can be in charge of laundering our broomstick training uniforms for the next month.”_

_Pippa smothered another fit of giggles. “No getting us caught on purpose then, Hiccup.”_

_“I won’t. Pinky swear.” She held out her hand, pinky finger extended. Pippa linked her pinky with Hecate’s, giving her finger a bit of a squeeze. “Let’s go.”_

_In no time at all, they were on the roof, tucked into their favorite spot for stargazing. Pippa sucked in a great lungful of air. “Oh, it smells so clean, doesn’t it? I just love the way it smells after it rains. It’s so fresh.”_

_“Petrichor.” Hecate said, softly. “That’s the smell after a rain.” She tensed, as she always did when she volunteered that she knew something others didn’t._

_“Petrichor,” Pippa repeated. “That’s the bats, Hiccup. You’ve always been so smart.” She looked up at the sky and pointed. “Which constellation is that?”_

_Hecate told her. Then told her the story behind it as Pippa leaned against her shoulder._

_“Look!” Pippa pointed at a shooting star as it streaked overhead. “Make a wish! Hurry, Hiccup, close your eyes and make a wish!” She closed her eyes. “Are they closed?” Pippa opened one eye to check. “Hiccup!”_

_“Okay! Okay!” Hecate closed her eyes, feeling both silly and accepted. She wished the same thing that she had been wishing ever since she’d realized that Pippa Pentangle had really meant to be her friend. She wished that she and Pippa would always be friends._

Hecate shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. “I’m here, Pipsqueak. Just remembering.

“Me, too. That’s… it’s so quiet…” Pippa shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the roof with me?”

Hecate opened her mouth to speak, fully prepared to say no. In fact, she thought she’d said no, before Pippa’s delighted smile lit up her entire face.

“Really? No lecture about the cold or being responsible?”

Hecate recovered her senses enough to summon her robe and heaviest cloak. “It’s not as though anyone can give us detention now, Pipsqueak.” She picked up a hand mirror. “Shift over and we can transfer as soon as I’m dressed?”

“I’ll see you up top, Hiccup!” Pippa blew her a quick kiss before disappearing.

Hecate stared at her reflection as she pulled on her robe. Though she could scarcely believe it, Hecate had to wonder if maybe…just maybe… that long-ago wish had come true after all.


	19. There's A Song In The Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's quiet in the castle - at least until Gwen and Algie decide to make a little night music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sooo… the fact that I used a reworked version of ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ might be worth a warning. I am one of the people who thinks that the original lyrics of this song are… problematic, to say the least.
> 
> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.
> 
> There’s A Song In the Air is a traditional Christmas carol and a Methodist hymn from the Cokesbury hymnal. It’s Sparky’s favorite song.
> 
> For anyone interested, the first chant is original and the second is a reworking of the Hazelmaas chant from The New Worst Witch. As mentioned above, I don’t care for the original lyrics to ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ Algie is always a proper gentleman and would never try to coerce anyone into anything. Thus, the roles are flipped and the most offensive lyrics have been changed. Because I can.
> 
> Sparky is still hanging in there, editing away and kindly not mentioning that I do the same maddeningly incorrect things with semicolons Every. Damn. Time.

 

Gwen tested the chord again, frowning. Something was still just a familiar’s whisker off. She made a light adjustment to Nadia, her classroom organ, and tried the chord again. Pleased this time, Gwen climbed onto the bench, settling herself into a comfortable position before launching into a traditional Yule chant.

 

 

> _Scent of clove and flake of snow,_
> 
> _Winter sky with stars aglow_
> 
> _Boughs of green and candles bright_
> 
> _Guide us through this sacred night!_

 

Algernon looked up from the book he was reading, anticipating the show. First, a flurry of snow swirled across the ceiling, appearing from nowhere. As the chant progressed, the ceiling disappeared altogether, replaced by an image of the night sky.

The snow continued to sparkle and swirl, spinning tighter and tighter until it coalesced into a glittering Yule tree.

“Brilliant, my dear! You haven’t lost a step!” Algie snapped his book closed and hopped over to the tree, gleefully running his fingers through the boughs as it faded out of sight. “As good as it’s ever been!”

Gwen didn’t say anything but beamed at him over her shoulder. She segued into another chant, this one for the upcoming Solstice.

 

 

> _Longest night with glowing moon_
> 
> _Hear us chant a witching tune_
> 
> _Thank the sun for dimming long_
> 
> _Make way for darkness clear and strong_
> 
> _sand and sea, frost and flame_
> 
> _work together in the Goddess’ name_
> 
> _to vanquish wrong and welcome right_
> 
> _spreading goodness through the night._
> 
> _In deep of night our magic grows_
> 
> _And through our veins it thrums and flows._
> 
> _So bless us one and bless us all_
> 
> _When we answer this night’s call._

 

 

“A new one?” Algie bounced back to the organ like a little boy, delighted at the shifting images flowing into one another. The flames dancing across the floor bathed him in a warm glow, filling his chest with a burning desire to go out into the night and stare at the moon. “It’s beautiful, my dear.” He blew a kiss her way. “Though not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Humph!” Gwen scoffed, despite her blush. “Dodgy old flatterer.”

“Not flattery at all, dearest. Just Merlin’s own truth.” He crossed a finger over his heart. “I swear by my best hat.” Algie squeezed on to the bench beside Gwen, bumping her with his hip until she gave him just enough room to sit down. He pecked out a series of notes on the keyboard.

La-da-de-da-dah

“Pffft…” Gwen flicked her fingers at him. “You know how I feel about that song…”

“Even with my new lyrics?” He plucked the notes out one last time before singing the words.

La-da-de-da-dah

“I really can't stay”

Gwen just looked at him.

“I've got to go away”

He was off-key, but trying. Gwen looked up at the ceiling, an almost imperceptible smile on her lips.

“This evening has been,” he crooned.

                _“I’m glad you dropped in.”_ Gwen joined in.

So very nice

_I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice_

Would you like me to scurry?

                _beautiful, please don't hurry_

But maybe just a half a drink more

_put some records on while I pour_

I wish I knew how

_your eyes are like starlight now_

To break this spell

_I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell_

I really can't stay

_oh baby, don't hold out_

But baby, it's cold outside

 

The girls might be gone, but old habits are hard to break, and Hecate found herself doing rounds in an empty castle. She felt restless, off-balance, and she couldn’t decide if it’s because she’d been spending so much time with Pippa lately, or because she hadn’t seen Pippa in two days. The sound of Gwen’s pump organ carried through the empty corridor. Hecate veered off her normal route and followed the music to the chanting room. It wasn’t until she was almost to the open door that Hecate could hear Algie and Gwen singing. She froze, lurking just outside the door, not wanting to disturb them. Peeking around the door, she could see them dancing around the room, desks magically sliding out of their way as they spun, still singing. She recognized the tune of an Ordinary Christmas song, if not all the words.

Hecate watched them for a few minutes. The dance wasn’t elegant or graceful, not by any means. It was comfortable, though, relaxed and…altogether lovely. Loving. No wonder Gwen had never been able to move on. How could anyone move on from someone who looked at you the way Algernon looked at Gwen? Once again, a flash of anger at what Miss Gullet had stolen from them burned in Hecate’s chest. She knew she’d been robbed of much the same thing. At least, she might have been. She’d never been able to figure out if Pippa had felt the same way as she did, way back then. She was terrified to ask now; they still felt too fragile, the connection too tenuous to risk.

It was getting stronger, though. Every day. She watched Gwen and Algie a few more minutes before transferring herself back to her quarters.

****

Algie dipped Gwen – shallowly, to be sure, but enough to count. He waggled his eyebrows at her before pulling her up and spinning her around again.

 

I don’t want to go

_baby, it's cold outside_

I’ll dance with you slow

_but baby, it's cold outside_

Your welcome has been

_so glad you dropped in_

So nice and warm

_let’s stay up and watch the dawn_

I feel like I’m home

_baby, I’ll keep you here_

I won’t need a coat

_it's up to your knees out there_

You've really been grand

_I thrill when you touch my hand_

I really must stay

_You really must stay_

Baby, it's cold…

 

“Baby, it's cold outside,” they sang together, as they laughed and spun around the room.

“All right, I give.  I’ll admit you’ve improved the lyrics immeasurably, Algie.” Gwen kissed him on the cheek, just above his beard.

Algie stepped back, bowing deeply. “Perhaps it’s time to retire, my dear?” He held an arm out and waited for Gwen to take it. “Unless you’d rather hear my new rendition of ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus?”


	20. Drive the Cold Winter Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blizzard is gone, and a new day shines cold and bright. Hecate sees the last of her charges off for the winter break. Still struggling from the aftereffects of the Big Freeze, Hecate and Ada search for new beginnings with good friends and good drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: some angst and unpleasantness still lingers from the Big Freeze. Alcohol is a feature here as well.
> 
> This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist. This whole thing is really a slow burn leading up to that.
> 
> The author of this hymn has been lost to the Mists of Time, it seems. It comes from somewhere in the 17th century, first appearing in a broadside circa 1625, apparently.
> 
> The Tom and Jerry is a delicious alternative to eggnog. It’s labor intensive but well worth it. It’s been around since the 1800’s, invented by a Brit it seems, but really taking off here in the states. My favorite recipe comes from here: http://imbibemagazine.com/classic-tom-jerry-cocktail/ It gives you the basic recipe and then links to the batter recipe below. 
> 
> This fic almost escaped while Sparky was taking a nap. Luckily, she woke up just in time to save us all from my split infinitives.

Hecate stood in the courtyard until the last student disappeared into the cold, clear sky.  She shivered and strengthened her warming spell. The blizzard had broken during the night, leaving in its place a glittering white landscape, sound muffled beneath the snow. Peaceful.

She stood for a few moments enjoying the softness, watching her breath fog every time she exhaled. She felt the beginnings of a yawn as it tried to escape the confines of her lungs. She let it go - loud and lazy and relaxing in its own way. She and Pippa had stargazed from their respective roofs far longer than she’d intended, both wrapped in blankets and warming spells. Pippa had come up with the brilliant idea to transfer a floor mirror with them to the roof instead of having to hold hand mirrors. Hecate had to admit that sitting on the rooftop next to the mirror was almost – almost – as nice as having Pippa there in person. They’d spent many nights on the roof of Amulet’s as girls. It was nice to get a bit of that tradition back.

It had also been somewhat cathartic. One thing she was discovering was that Pippa Pentangle still had the power to both unnerve and steady her at the same time. She’d been so focused on the stars and Pippa’s voice and not saying or doing anything that might bring their visit to an abrupt end that she hadn’t been able to obsess about an ice-covered Cackle’s or magical black spots. She hadn’t fretted over frozen girls or a frozen Ada – or how it had been Mildred Hubble who had offered up her magic, rather than Hecate herself. And how shamefully thankful she was that Miss Mould had ultimately made the sacrifice.

A sharp crack pulled Hecate out of her memories. A thin branch of a nearby tree had finally succumbed to the weight of the snow. That could be me, she thought ruefully, a maudlin old fool who can’t step out of the shadows of dark memories, carrying it until I break.  Well, no more.  She’d moved on from far worse than a bit of ice.

She dropped her warming spell and allowed the cold to seep into her. She closed her eyes as she opened her cloak, mindful of the way her body reacted: the goosebumps, the shivering, the way her nose started to burn when she breathed in the frigid air. “It’s only the cold,” she said to herself. “You are not freezing. You are not without magic.” She repeated this, over and over, pushing her anxiety deeper and deeper inside. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, but the faint ripple of Ada’s magic materializing behind her told her it must have been a while.

“Hecate?” Ada’s soft voice carried over the snow. “You’ve been out here quite a while. I thought I’d see what was keeping you.” In truth, Ada and Gwen had been watching Hecate from the staff room window for quite some time. Ada had wanted to come check on her deputy’s well-being immediately, but Gwen had been quite firm.  ‘ _Processing_ ,’ Gwen had said. ‘ _Hecate is processing her feelings – and it’s well past time. Leave her be, Ada_.’

So, Ada had left Hecate to herself – at least until she had seen her open her cloak and expose herself to the elements. After an agonizing wait, Gwen had finally agreed that it was time for Ada to fetch her deputy back.

Hecate managed to repress a sigh of annoyance as she pulled her cloak back on. “I gather everyone is waiting on me?”

“Not at all,” Ada reassured her. She looked around, blinking in the brightness. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? At least when I can look at it without thinking of being a great chunk of ice myself.” Ada saw Hecate stiffen. Spot on, then, she thought. “I still feel cold at odd times. Are you finding that to be true as well?” Ada waited, but Hecate didn’t speak, or even look at her. At last, though, a slight dip of the chin. “I’m sorry, though I must say I’m glad it’s not just me.” Ada stepped closer. “I have a confession. One of the reasons I was so keen on a games day yesterday is that I knew it would be too boisterous for me to think about the storm.” Ada braved slipping an arm around Hecate’s waist and giving her a squeeze. “It still bothers me too, Hecate. Perhaps over the break we might…talk about things? I’d love to know that I’m not the only one still struggling.”

Hecate felt Ada’s arm around her waist, as comforting as the warming spell she’d felt Ada slip over her as soon as she’d joined her. Her first instinct was simply to say that she was fine. She was fine. She would be fine. Instead, she squeezed the hand at her waist and said, “I think I’d like that.”

“Very good, then. I shall look forward to it.” Ada let her arm drop. “Now…I do believe we have another Cackle’s tradition to attend to. One that I know you enjoy.”

Hecate barked out a laugh. “You very well know I do NOT enjoy this particular tradition.”

“That’s why I had Miss Drill add extra rum, dear. Why I always have her add extra rum.” With a snap of her fingers Ada transferred them both to the staff room.

****

“Miss Cackle! I see you’ve found our lost Deputy!” Dimity ladled a serving of their traditional Tom and Jerry punch and handed it to Hecate. “You first, HB, you look like the frosty bits of an old ready meal.”

“Delightful.” Hecate drawled, but took the drink anyway, cradling the warm mug in her hands and breathing in the scent of the cinnamon and nutmeg. Not that she’d ever mention it, but Dimity’s Tom and Jerry punch had become one of her favorite parts of the holiday season. Rich and frothy from the egg whites, sweet and spicy from the sugar and cloves and warm, warm, warm from the hot milk and the rum. “Thank you, Dimity.”

“Anything for you, HB,” Dimity gave Hecate a knowing look, before winking at her and filling Ada’s mug.

Hecate took in the circle of chairs in front of the fireplace. Ah, yes… the rest of Ada’s end-of-the-winter-term tradition. Sharing their feelings about the term. She took her place in one of the chairs by the fire, letting its heat and the warmth of her drink drive the last of the chill from her bones. Soon Ada took her place in the seat next to her, and it was time to begin.

“Good afternoon, dear, dear, friends.” Ada lifted her mug. “To surviving, if not thriving, this past term. May the next term be as glorious as this one…” Ada’s voice cracked, and tears sprang to her eyes. Hecate placed a steadying hand on Ada’s shoulder. “May it be as glorious as this one was awful.” Ada held her mug up a moment longer before slumping back in her chair and taking a drink.

Hecate looked at the faces surrounding her. Her friends. The closest thing she had to a family. The people she would have lost if… she raised her glass. “To a better spring term. And… to Julie Hubble, a most extraordinary Ordinary woman, without whom I daresay we wouldn’t be here.”

“To Julie,” they said, each sipping their drink.

“And to that determined little tadpole of hers, Mildred Hubble,” Algernon added. “The girl who never gives up.”

“To Mildred Hubble, the Girl Who Won’t Give Up,” Ada repeated, raising her mug again. “And quite the impressionist, wouldn’t you agree, Hecate?”

With that, conversation lightened considerably. Soon the melancholia had lifted, replaced by laughter and ribald jokes from Dimity and Algernon, with a healthy dose of Dimity poking at Hecate whenever she could until Hecate resorted to using a cooling spell on Dimity’s drink every time she was about to take a sip.

One by one, the teachers took their leave, everyone eager to begin their holiday. Gwen and Algie, who had rented a seaside cabin for the break, were the first to depart, followed by Miss Tapioca and the rest of the kitchen witches.

Finally, only Hecate and Ada remained, neither of them leaving the castle anyway. “Would you care for a refill, Hecate?” Hecate nodded and handed Ada her mug. “I must say, I had my doubts when Dimity first offered to make this instead of our traditional eggnog, but…”

“Agreed. These are much better,” Hecate arched an eyebrow Ada’s direction. “But if you ever tell Dimity how much I adore these, I’ll swear this conversation never took place and you will wonder why every jumper you own is suddenly a muddy brown color.”

Ada burst out laughing… and laughing… until tears streamed from her eyes. “Thank you, Hecate,” she wheezed, “I needed that.”

Hecate leaned back in her chair and sipped a bit more of her drink. She loved the times when she was able to make Ada laugh.

“Are you and Miss Pentangle doing anything for Solstice?” Ada asked, as soon as she could speak again. “That’s tomorrow, you know.”

Hecate blinked rapidly at the unexpected change of subject. “I… uh… Yes. Pippa is coming here. If that’s all right?” she added quickly. “I should have asked first.”

“Nonsense! You don’t need to ask if you can have a guest. You’ve never needed to ask.” Ada leaned forward and placed one hand on Hecate’s knee. “I want you to know, Hecate, that I am absolutely delighted that you and Miss Pentangle have decided to rekindle your friendship. I know how important she was to you. It’s wonderful to get this second chance.”

Hecate smiled, a rare, full smile that few people ever got to see. “It is… wonderful. And terrifying.” Her smile faltered. “I’ve never told you this, but… our estrangement was my fault. A mistake that seemed the proper thing to do at the time and… well… I never thought I’d get the chance to make amends for that.” She shrugged, hoping Ada would understand.

“And now you have the chance to get that friendship back, not just make amends. You are very fortunate, Hecate, very fortunate indeed.” She clinked her mug against Hecate’s. “To new beginnings of all sorts.”

“To new beginnings,” Hecate said, smiling again.


	21. Wintertide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Solstice, the longest night of the year and Hecate finds herself playing hostess to the first Solstice she and Pippa have spent together. Overwhelmed, and still feeling guilty for her role in their estrangement, can Hecate let tonight herald a new beginning? Or will old patterns keep them apart?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Starts with some angst – Hecate still carries around guilt from her sudden departure so many years ago.
> 
> Wintertide is a Norwegian folk melody, but it has new lyrics by Tony Silvestri. The one I listened to was performed by the Choir of Royal Holloway.
> 
> This was written on Christmas Day, when I was sick and behind on the fics and Sparky was enjoying her holiday. So, this had only spell checker for a beta. 
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Tapping her finger against the glass, Hecate charmed the snow globe on her mantle to swirl without the need for shaking. A second tap set the tiny skaters circling to the music. As always, her eyes were drawn to the figure in the pink coat. She smiled slightly as it drew closer to its burgundy-coated companion. Sometimes closer, sometimes further apart, but never truly separated.

Hecate took a last glance around her rooms. Pippa was due for their regular Thursday night chess game any moment. Only this wasn’t a regular Thursday night. It was Solstice. They would be celebrating their first Solstice together. Hecate still wasn’t sure how that had come to pass, exactly. All she knew was that she’d been trying to tell Pippa that she needn’t worry about coming to play chess since it was Solstice and the next thing she knew… A soft tapping at her door announced Pippa’s arrival.

“Hello, darling!” Pippa breezed into the room as soon as Hecate opened the door, slowing only long enough to press a quick kiss to Hecate’s cheek. “You look lovely tonight! Is that dress new?”

Hecate glanced down at the red and black brocade, running her hands stiffly down her sides. “Thank you… yes, it is.” She felt her cheeks burning. Pippa had noticed? “For you-Yule. I got it for Yule.”

“Well it is stunning. Red is very much your color, Hiccup.” Pippa removed her cloak and hung on the hook by the door. As always, she took a moment to study the photographs hanging on the wall. There were only two, but Pippa never tired of looking at them. The first, from when they were schoolgirls with their whole lives stretching out ahead of them, always caused Pippa’s heart to stutter. It was so clear now, how in love they were. She peeked over at Hecate wondering if she could see it. The other photograph was new, their night in the village. The urge to touch it was almost overwhelming – the need to trace her fingers over Hecate’s image tugged at her time and again. Because the expression on Hecate’s face was the same. In both pictures. Every time she saw it, Pippa’s resolve to rebuild their relationship was renewed.

She turned around to find Hecate staring at her curiously. “I’m so glad you hung the pictures, Hiccup,” she shrugged her shoulders, “We’ve not changed so awfully much, have we?”

“You haven’t,” Hecate answered, before she had a chance to censor herself. Looking away, she ran her fingertips across the pads of her thumbs, forcing her breath steady.

“Flatterer!” Pippa captured one of Hecate’s hands and led her to the sofa. “I brought some things for later, since it’s the first Solstice we’ve spent together.” She summoned an oversized basket, dragging it to sit on the floor between them.

The choking sob escaped Hecate before she could stop it. Clamping a hand over her mouth she fled the sofa and retreated to her bathroom, praying that Pippa would just… stay on the couch.

Of course, that was too much to ask.

“Hiccup?” The bathroom door opened a crack and half a blonde head peeped inside. “May I come in? Please?” Hecate didn’t answer, so Pippa eased into the space. “Darling? Please… I’m sorry, Hiccup. I didn’t think…”

Hecate leaned over the sink, clutching the counter with both hands as she kept the contents of her stomach down through sheer force of will. “For the love of… why on earth are you sorry, Pippa. I’m the only one to blame.” She bent over more, elbows on the counter as she cradled her head in her hands. “I don’t understand why you’re even still here.”

Pippa eased closer, resting a hand lightly between Hecate’s shoulder blades. “I’m here because you have always been the most important person in the world to me, Hiccup. Even when we were apart.” She started rubbing soothing circles on Hecate’s back. “Especially when we were apart.” She stepped closer. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, Hecate, but I am beyond thrilled that you are back in my life.”

Hecate held out a hand, reaching blindly until Pippa laced their fingers together.  Pippa leaned over Hecate, wrapping her arms around her. “I’m so sorry…” Hecate straightened, suddenly, forcing Pippa to take a step back.

Pippa dropped her arms, afraid she’d encroached too much into Hecate’s space. “You don’t need to be sorry anymore, Hiccup.” She started to take another step back, but found her arms full of Hecate, who was hugging her with a ferocity Pippa would never have expected. Holding on just as tightly, Pippa clenched her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling, afraid Hecate wouldn’t understand why she was crying.

After a long time, Hecate sucked in a lungful of air and pulled herself free. “I imagine you’re hungry after your trip, Pipsqueak.” She slipped around Pippa, careful not to touch her, and exited the bathroom. “I’ll set up the tea.”

Off-balance from the sudden change, Pippa lowered herself to sit on the edge of the tub. “Give her a moment,” she told herself. “Give yourself a moment.” Pippa knew the routine, as old and familiar as her own magic. Hecate would hold in her feelings until she couldn’t, the inevitable explosion of anger, sadness, joy, whatever, would happen, and then they would both pretend that it didn’t. Except that Hecate would be subtly different – stiffer at first, then, when she saw that Pippa wasn’t going anywhere, more relaxed and just a little bit more open with her feelings. She prayed that this was one trait that hadn’t changed over the years.

Checking her make-up in the mirror, Pippa cast a quick spell to refresh her face and hair before returning to Hecate’s living room. “Mmmm… Thank you, Hiccup. Tea is just the thing.” Pippa took up her usual spot in the chair closest to the window. “Shall I set up the board? Or would you rather put out the things I brought for Solstice and Yule?”

“Solstice. I don’t want our ritual to feel like an afterthought.” She sat down next to the basket. “Since it is our first one.”

Pippa moved to sit next to Hecate on the couch. “That’s a good thing, Hiccup.” She reached into the basket and pulled a handful of red and green velvet ribbons. “Will you?” she asked, gesturing towards the evergreen garland on the mantel. Hecate magicked them into place.  Next, Pippa unwrapped some crystal votive holders and floated them onto the mantel as well. Hecate lit the candles inside.

Finally, Pippa pulled a Yule log out of the basket. The sturdy oak had three holes drilled down the middle. “Do we want to burn the log itself, or burn candles in it?”

Hecate looked down at her hands, “If we…” She sighed. “I’ll be happy with whatever you want, Pipsqueak.”

“If we burn candles in it, we can use the same log next year,” Pippa said, gently.

Hecate’s eyes snapped up, full of hope and fear and longing. “That… that would be…”

“Acceptable?” Pippa winked. “It’s more than acceptable to me, too, darling.”

Hecate’s lips twitched, ever so slightly and Pippa could just make out the loosening of her shoulders. “Shall we place it on the mantel?” Hecate didn’t really want to move the snow globe, but the Yule log was more important.

“What if we place it in the window? Then the candles can shine outside.” Pippa couldn’t bring herself to ask Hecate to move the snow globe. A few seconds later, three candles flickered brightly against the glass. “It’s beautiful, Hiccup. Perfect.” Lastly, an evergreen wreath studded with herbs and star-shaped ornaments was hung over the fireplace.

“Now,” Pippa said, picking up a biscuit from the tea tray. “I believe we have just enough time for a match before it’s time to begin the Solstice ceremony.”

“Our first,” Hecate nodded, still looking pained.

“But not our last, Hiccup. Not our last.”


	22. Cool Yule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimity Drill is enjoying her usual after-Solstice tradition at the Cross Baths. Just when she thinks she gets to enjoy some peace and quiet, a face from her past arrives to shake things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Divine Miss M makes an appearance on our list, thank you Bette Midler for being you.
> 
> So… this was from the day after Christmas, I was still behind on the fics, still sick and Sparky was still enjoying her holiday. That means this still had only spell checker for a beta. 
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Dimity paused, just inside the baths. The warm, moist air rising from the bath with the steam battled with the frigid outside air. Dimity loved the juxtaposition of it all. She moved closer to the pool of warm water where the heat surrounded her, quickly making her travel cloak feel much too warm. Folding it away, she quickly removed the rest of her robes, stripping down to a navy swimsuit and easing herself into the hot spring. Checking first to make sure she was alone, Dimity vanished her belongings.

Sinking into the water, Dimity closed her eyes and leaned against the warm tiles, breathing in the steam as it rose off the pool. Tradition since her Star of the Sky days, few things gave Dimity as much pleasure as a post-Solstice soak in the Cross Bath. Another perk the day after Solstice? Hardly anyone wanted to use the open-air bath, Ordinaries in particular avoided it.

But not Dimity. Despite the many updates and remodels, she could practically feel the history bleeding from the stones. The Celts had worshipped the goddess Sul here. Samuel Pepys bathed here in 1668. Dimity Drill in 2017, she smiled, relaxing further into the steamy waters.

A timid voice broke the silence. “M-Miss Drill?”

Dimity’s eyes popped open. It took her a minute to place the person who was speaking. “Miss Mould? Is that you?” Gone were the colorful robes and hair that just begged to have fingers tangled in it…. Wait! What? Dimity shook her head, rattling away the image in her mind, focusing on the witch, er… woman in the modest black swimsuit before her. “What a… Well met, sister.” Dimity pressed her hand to her forehead.

“Well met, Miss Drill.” Marigold looked at the water. “I don’t mean to disturb you… I’ll just go to one of the other baths…”

“No!” Dimity sat up straighter. “No need for that…” she gestured at the empty pool. “I hardly think I need the whole thing for meself.” She patted the surface of the water. “Join me?”

Smiling shyly, Marigold stepped into the pool, settling onto the ledge opposite Dimity. “Sooo… how has the rest of the term gone?” She dropped her eyes to the water. “If it’s all right for me to ask. I know… well…” She shrugged. “I know.”

Dimity thought about glossing over it, changing the mood with a wisecrack or two, but she decided against it. “It’s been… trying, that’s true. The girls… the girls have bounced back like you wouldn’t believe. Miss Cackle and HB? It’s been a bit harder. But…everyone is healing.” She looked up as a group of older women made their way into the bath, laughing at the cold, clearly enjoying themselves.

“Hello, loves!” One of them called, “hope you don’t mind a bit of company. They clambered noisily into the water, shattering the quiet of the bath.

Dimity waited until the group had settled, filling the spaces between her and Marigold. She watched as Marigold greeted the women in the Ordinary way, only a little bit clumsily. “Sod it,” she said to herself and pushed off her bench and floated over to sit next to Marigold.

“Hello, there,” Dimity said, once she’d settled next to Marigold. “Didn’t feel like shouting across the pool. This all right with you?”

Marigold looked down, fanning her hand across the surface of the water. “It’s fine. More than fine.” They leaned back, slipping into an awkward silence, letting the other women’s laughter fill the room. “I remember you told me about coming here after Solstice.”

“The night of my birthday party,” Dimity nodded. “We had a good time that night, eh?”

“We did, I did anyway…” Marigold’s face took on a pained expression. “I wish I’d come to my senses sooner. I really do regret that…” She glanced at the women. “You know. I wish I’d figured out what was important sooner.”

“So do I, love.” Dimity crossed her arms over her chest. “My friends were hurt that day, our students were, too.”

“I know.”

They sat in silence for a while until Dimity spoke again. “What have you been getting yourself up to, then?”

“I’m looking for full time work, mainly. I’ve got some part time work, teaching art at a youth center.” She wiped a sheen of steam from her face. “I’ve got a tiny bit of a flat. It’s all right – better than I had any hope of it being.”

“That’s the bats, Marigold.” Dimity bumped Marigold’s shoulder. “Julie Hubble passed along your message.”

“Oh! Good. She, uh… she passed yours along too.” Marigold dropped her eyes to the water, cheeks coloring slightly. “I wish things were different.”

“Me too,” Dimity said, before falling silent again. She swung her legs under the water, enjoying the slight resistance against her muscles. “It’s different now, though.”

Marigold’s head shot up. “Right. I’m…” she lowered her voice. “I’m Ordinary now. You aren’t. That definitely makes things different.”

Dimity thought about what Marigold was saying. She splayed her fingers on the bench between them, her little finger barely touching Marigold’s thumb. “You may be many things, Marigold Mould, but Ordinary isn’t one of them.”

Marigold looked down through the rippling water before she shifted her thumb, just enough to bring it fully into contact with Dimity’s finger. “That’s kind of you, Miss Drill.”

“It’s the truth. Miss Mould.” Dimity leaned closer to Marigold, “I hope that we can—” A burst of raucous laughter erupted on the other side of the pool, causing Dimity to jerk backwards, slamming her shoulder blades into the rim of the pool. “Ow!” She stretched her shoulders. “I think this isn’t what I had in mind for my after-Solstice soak.”

Marigold’s face fell, and she pulled her hand back to rest on top of her thighs. “I understand.”

No, Dimity thought, I don’t think you do. “How would you like to go and get a coffee? My treat?”

Marigold’s smile rivaled every star in the sky, Dimity thought. “I’d like that. Very much.”


	23. That's Christmas to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie Hubble needs some help. It’s Mildred’s first Christmas since she discovered she’s from a real witching family and Julie isn’t sure how they should be celebrating. When Miss Cackle is pulled away, it’s up to Hecate Hardbroom to figure out how to combine traditions old and new – but first, she has to survive one angry, Ordinary mother who has a bit to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s Christmas to Me is a new classic by Pentatonix. It seems binge watching all three Pitch Perfect movies as I finish this fic has affected me.
> 
> Write a short fic, I said. Six or seven hundred words, I said. Crank a couple out in a day and try to get caught up, I said. Apparently, I’m a terrible listener. Still just me having to spell check myself. 
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

“I don’t know what Miss Hubble needs, Hecate, just that she left a message asking me to mirror her between three and four today, if at all possible.” Ada pinned on her cloak. “I can’t reschedule with Mavis Spellbody again.” Pleading blue eyes fastened on Hecate. “You know that I can’t. Please, just see what she wants? If she absolutely must speak with me, find out when I can mirror her back. Please?”

Lips pressed in a thin line, Hecate nodded her head. What else could she do? Ada and Mavis had been forced to reschedule their holiday plans three times for one reason or another. “Of course, I will, Ada. You and Mavis have a wonderful afternoon. Ada smiled gratefully, promised to make it up to Hecate, somehow, and transferred away.

Hecate checked the time. She had just over an hour before she had to relinquish part of her break to speak with Julie Hubble. Sighing heavily, she took a seat at Ada’s desk. At least she had time to reconcile the end of term financials while Ada was out.

****

Julie smoothed her hair one more time. Hopefully, Miss Cackle would be ringing any time now. A soft chime from the mirror alerted her to the call. Julie forced her smile not to falter when she found herself face to face with Miss Hardbroom instead of Miss Cackle.

“Miss Hardbroom! I… I was expecting Miss Cackle. Uh…” Julie slapped her hand to her forehead. “Well met, Miss Hardbroom.”

Hecate’s left eye twitched, just a bit. “Adult witches hold their palms out, Miss Hubble.” She waited for Julie to correct the greeting before returning it. “Well met, Mistress Hubble. Miss Cackle had a previous engagement. What is it I can help you with?”

“Well… it’s this really.” She flapped her hand at the mirror. “I have a daughter who is a witch. That comes with…expectations. Traditions. But we Ordinaries have traditions, too. I don’t know what to do to keep things… compatible?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Hecate frowned.

“It’s the holidays. Mildred’s first real Christmas as a witch. Do witches even celebrate Christmas? Last year, it was all so new…” Julie raked her fingers through her hair. “She knows she’s from a witching family now. What does that change for her?”

“Mildred Hubble is still Mildred Hubble,” Hecate stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And that means what, exactly? That it doesn’t matter if she knows her own history? That it’s fine for her to keep feeling like an outsider?” Julie’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping. “That it’s bloody fine for you to keep treating her like a second-rate student?”

“I-I…” Hecate trailed off. This was going worse than she thought. She pulled Ada’s desk chair out and sank down onto it. “That’s not…”

“Are you going to try and tell me that I’m wrong about a single thing I’ve said? Because I would love to hear you explain that away.” Julie leaned into the mirror. “Go on, then. Crack on.”

Hecate blinked back the traitorous tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m not here to defend my teaching methods, Ms. Hubble. All I meant is that Mildred is still the same girl she was last year. Whatever…rituals you observe for the holidays will suffice.”

Julie scrubbed her hands across her face. “Do witches not celebrate Christmas?” Julie asked. “There must be something… How do you celebrate Christmas?

“Witches may celebrate it however they choose. Nothing about being a witch prohibits any sort of religious observance, if that’s what concerns you.” She had no idea why she added it, but she went on to say, “I generally spend the day in my quarters reading and meditating.”

Julie pushed aside her need to ask if Miss Hardbroom really spent Christmas day alone in her room, instead, forcing herself to stick to the matter at hand. “So, we can still go to the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service, then?”

Hecate nodded. “The Cackle’s tend to follow more traditional witching rituals. The Pentangles are Episcopalian. My family…well, we didn’t observe anything but the highest witching holidays, and even that wasn’t… celebratory.”

That… explained a lot… Julie thought, wondering, not for the first time, what sort of childhood produced the woman on the other side of the mirror. “Look,” she said, softening her tone, “I know you don’t want to help me, but I’m trying to do what’s best for Millie and the only other person I can ask is Marigold – Miss Mould.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That just seems bloody cruel, doesn’t it? To ask her how witches celebrate Christmas when she’s just lost her powers.” It was Julie’s eyes that were glossy now. “When she gave them up for Millie.”

“No,” Hecate’s voice was raw. “Don’t ask her.” Standing, Hecate raised her hand to transfer, pausing just before she finished the spell. “May I transfer to you? We’ll see what you have that we can use.” She waited for Julie’s permission before snapping her fingers and closing the spell.

****

Hecate materialized much closer to Julie than she expected. She hadn’t realized the living room was so small. Hastily backing up a step, Hecate bumped into the table, knocking it back and spilling Julie’s cup of tea. “My apologies, Ms. Hubble,” she said once she’d found her footing.

“It’s all right, it’s not exactly a castle, I know.”

Hecate looked around. The flat was tiny and well lived-in, but neat. Every surface seemed to have some sort of drawing affixed to it. “Did Mildred make all of those?”

“She did. Millie’s always been prolific.” Julie smoothed a watercolor taped to a cabinet door.

“Yes. She’s constantly drawing where she should be taking notes.” Hecate braced herself for another display of Julie Hubble’s temper. It didn’t come.

“Have you ever looked at what she draws in her notebooks?” Julie waved her question away. “Never mind. I know you haven’t.” Crooking a finger in Hecate’s direction, she started down a short hallway. Hecate followed. “Let’s see,” she said, switching on the lights in Mildred’s bedroom. She moved to Mildred’s desk and picked up her school satchel from the floor beside it. “Potions, potions, potions…” she mumbled as she rummaged through the bag.

Hecate took a moment to examine her surroundings. It was unusual for her to be in the home of one of her students, much less the child’s bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Mildred’s room was as disorganized has her hutch at school.

“Ah! Here we go.” Julie thrust the notebook into Hecate’s hands. “Have a look-see at that, then, why don’t you? You tell me, Miss High and Mighty, what Millie’s doing in your class?”

Biting back a scathing remark, if for no other reason than it would displease Ada, Hecate opened the notebook. Unsurprisingly, the first page of notes had been defaced with a drawing of one of the class cauldrons, the second with sketch of the ingredient shelves. “I don’t see what your point is.” Hecate flipped the page again.

And came face to face with a perfectly rendered drawing of _Mandragora officinarum_. Mandrake. She gasped, bringing the picture closer, studying the details of the veining of the leaves and the petals of the purple flowers. Next to it, another botanically accurate drawing of the common cat trap plant. At the bottom of the page Mildred had drawn one of the clear classroom cauldrons, filled with a potion exactly the right shade of blue. Hecate looked up at Julie, confused.

“She’s not drawing instead of taking your precious notes, Miss Hardbroom. She’s illustrating your notes, ‘cause that’s how she learns. She remembers everything as pictures. Always has. You’d know that if you’d ever once stopped to actually listen to her.”

Hecate flipped through the notes. Some of the illustrations were still in progress. Hastily drawn and labeled sketches, waited for Mildred to fill them in – which, it appeared, Mildred was spending her holiday doing. “She’s… very talented.”

“That she is… in a subject you’ve gone out of your way to say was unimportant.” She tugged the notebook out of a reluctant Hecate’s hands and dropped it back into the satchel. “I wonder, though… how many of your fancy potions books have illustrations in them? Mildred tells me you’ve written potions books yourself. No illustrations? Or did Hecate Hardbroom, Queen of Tradition, use something as Ordinary as photographs?”

Julie didn’t wait for a response, instead, she spun on her heel and stalked out into the hallway. “You can go back to the academy, Miss Hardbroom. I’ll manage.”

Hecate stood in the middle of Mildred Hubble’s bedroom, wondering how everything had spiraled out of control. She glanced back at Mildred’s satchel, fingers itching to look through that notebook, knowing that nothing Julie Hubble said was incorrect. It just wasn’t everything. As she turned to follow Julie into the hallway, Hecate noticed Mildred’s current work in progress, a watercolor in mostly blues and grays. She stepped closer, hand clapping over her mouth too late to stifle another gasp.

It was the tower. The founding stone, gray and dead. Mildred kneeling beside it. Hecate herself encased in a block of ice. Even in the painting Hecate looked exhausted. Weak. Like a failure.

“It’s also how she processes things,” Julie said, softly. Hecate hadn’t even heard her approach. “She still has nightmares about that day, I think. But she won’t talk about it.”

“As do I,” Hecate confessed. “It was supposed to be me. That’s why I was there… to give up my magic for the stone. It never should have been Mildred. She should never have been in that position.”

“Thank God for Miss Mould.”

“Indeed.” Hecate wrenched her eyes away from the picture, guilt rising like bile in her throat. No child should ever be in such… “It shouldn’t have happened.” She met Julie’s gaze, steadily. “Miss Mould saved all of us that day. As did you. If you hadn’t…” She couldn’t suppress the shudder that passed through her body. “It was a terrible day.”

“That we can agree on, Miss Hardbroom.” Julie waved Hecate into the hallway.

Hecate edged into the hallway, stiff and still. “I understand you’ve been assisting Miss Mould. I’m happy to hear that.”

“A bit, when I can.  She’s found herself in a new world that she knows nothing about. Someone has to help her get sorted.”

Though silent, the rebuke was clear. “I… thank you for that, Ms. Hubble.” Julie stopped in the middle of the cramped living room, turning to look expectantly at Hecate. She could leave. Hecate knew that. Ms. Hubble had said as much. Demanded as much. Hecate could return to Cackle’s, having done as Ada had asked and chalk the hard feelings up to one more disastrous interaction in a long line of disastrous interactions with the Ordinary woman.

No.

With the witch who was last in the line of witches whose power had been traded for a Founding Stone.

Who wanted to help the first magical daughter in generations succeed in a strange new world.

“Ms. Hubble…” Hecate began, not sure herself where she was going.

“It’s fine, Miss Hardbroom. I –”

“No. It most certainly is not fine.” Hecate gestured at the undecorated living room. “Please tell me about your traditions. Please.”

Cocking her head to the side, Julie studied the potions mistress standing in her living room. She recognized the request for what it was: a truce of sorts. “All right, love.” She gestured to one of the two dining chairs. “I’ll do up some tea. We’ve a bit yet before Millie’s due back at the flat.”  She set the kettle on to boil. “So, I’m sure you’ve noticed there’s no decorations up yet?” Hecate nodded. “That’s one of our traditions. When Millie was almost three things were tight. I’d been out of a job and the new one didn’t pay much and… I wasn’t getting paid until the twenty-third. I didn’t have any choice unless I asked me mum for some dosh and… she still wasn’t so keen on the whole ‘unwed mother’ bit her oldest daughter was playing at. We’d had words about it.” The kettle whistled, and she poured it into the waiting pot. Anyway, I couldn’t afford to buy much, and I couldn’t afford anything until I got paid, so not a scrap of Christmas came before Christmas Eve. Wouldn’t you know, Millie remembered. Ever since then, Santa brings Christmas on Christmas Eve. There’s one present to open on Christmas Eve and that’s always new pajamas. As soon as Millie’s asleep Santa gets to work.”

Taking the teacup offered to her, Hecate thought about where to begin. “I assume you put up a tree?” Julie nodded. “Christmas tree, Yule tree both are evergreens so…”

“Two birds with one stone, then,” Julie finished, spooning sugar into her own tea. “That’s different from a Yule log, though.”

“Yes.” Hecate summoned a small oaken branch from Cackle’s and handed it to Julie before summoning three candles: red, white, and green. “Traditionally, a Yule log is meant to be harvested yourself or received as a gift. Light the candles and keep them burning from Christmas Eve until after midnight on the twenty-sixth. The candles are charmed so they won’t burn down.” Julie nodded.

“An evergreen wreath on the door, some mistletoe hanging in a doorway… those are all symbols of Yule as well as Christmas,” Hecate continued. “You can eat some traditional foods, like caraway cakes soaked in cider or serve turkey. Wassail is a traditional drink as well.”

“I can do a turkey. We’ll have leftovers for weeks, but… turkey, yes.” Julie scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper. “Is there anything we should do?”

“Add some herbs to your wreath - bayberry or sage, perhaps?” She thought a moment. “The Cackle’s have a tradition that you might want to adopt as something new. Each year, just after midnight, each person writes a wish on a bay leaf and burns it as a sort of… prayer for the new year. I’ll also send instructions for the traditional ritual for peace and happiness. It’s one of our oldest and most widely practiced rites.”

Julie nodded as she continued to take notes on her paper. “Thank you, Miss Hardbroom. I do appreciate this.”

Hecate stood abruptly. “You’re welcome, Ms. Hubble.” Now that she was standing, Hecate realized she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. “I’m sure I should be on my way before Mildred returns.”

Glancing at the kitchen clock, Julie stood herself, slipping her notes into a kitchen drawer. “Yes. Not that she wouldn’t be thrilled to see you…”

“It’s best if I just…” Hecate smiled, ever so slightly. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call. Even if it’s Christmas Day.”

Julie held out her hand, taking Hecate’s and shaking it when the witch was too stunned to respond. “I will, if I need to.”

Hecate nodded and raised her hand to transfer, before lowering it again. “And Ms. Hubble, I have always wanted Mildred to succeed. You may not agree with my methods, and I know you don’t, but… I do want that for her.” She snapped her fingers and disappeared before Julie had a chance to respond.

“Always has to be so bloody dramatic,” Julie sighed as Mildred burst through the door.

 


	24. O Tannenbaum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Pippa has an accident on the ski slopes, it’s Hecate Hardbroom she calls upon for help. Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: medical drug use? Pippa’s on some painkillers and she’s a little bit stoned.
> 
> O Tannenbaum is a classic carol. I went with the German original, because why not?
> 
> I am still Sparky-less when it comes to editing. I’m so sorry.
> 
> All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Hurrying through the medical complex, Hecate tried to push the panic down. She needn’t worry. She knew that. She’d already spoken with Pippa. Twice. Pippa was fine. She just… didn’t know how to find her.

Hecate tried to remember the one other time she’d been in hospital for Ordinaries. It had been years ago, when a young Cackle’s teacher had tried her hand at driving a car. There should be a…

“Can I help you, love?” a young, bleary-eyed man in maroon scrubs asked. “You look a bit lost.”

“I’m here to pick up a friend. I just don’t know where to find her.” Hecate reminded herself to smile at the last second.  

“Right, just check in over there,” he pointed to a tall desk that Hecate had purposely avoided, covered as it was in fairy lights and green metallic tinsel.  A garish pink tree crowded with colored balls almost blocked a young woman from view. _Hoi polloi_ , Hecate thought, cautiously approaching.

A few minutes later, Hecate was striding down a white corridor, loose skirt billowing with every step, and something called a ‘sticky note’ clutched in her hand. Glancing at the number for the tenth time, Hecate finally found the proper place. Poking her head through the privacy curtain, Hecate spotted a blonde ponytail bobbing just above the top of a raised bed. “Pippa?”

The blonde head turned and leaned around the edge of the mattress until Pippa was hanging off to the point Hecate feared she would crash to the floor. “Hiccup! You came!” A hand flailed in Hecate’s direction. “Come here, you can be the first to sign my plaster!”

Hecate stepped inside the curtain. She took in the pink-clad form stretched out before her. Pippa’s left ankle was done up in a bright white cast. A slight tear marred her ski pants, and a neat row of stitches sat just above her left eyebrow. “I see you don’t ski any better than you ice skate.”

“Oh… I don’t know about that, Hiccup…” Pippa grinned, wide and slightly crooked. “I went SWOOP!” She waved her arms out to her sides, nearly hitting Hecate in the face until she captured Pippa’s hand in hers. “You should have seen me, Hiccup, I was going soooo fast!”

“I’m sure you were, Pipsqueak,” Hecate smiled indulgently, letting a thin stream of her magic wash over Pippa, checking her injuries. “Too bad you didn’t remember how to stop.”

“Pffffttt…” Pippa waved her free hand dismissively. “Wasn’t my fault… how was I supposed to know that fox was going leap out from the woods. You wouldn’t want me to squish it, would you?” Pippa tugged at her hand. “The only thing I want to squish is you!”

“NO!” Hecate’s eyes flew open and she looked around to see if anyone heard her. No one seemed to be paying them any mind at all. “No… we wouldn’t want you to…squish the fox.” Hecate eased herself onto the edge of the bed. Merlin’s cauldron, she thought, what sort of Ordinary medicines had they pumped in to her? “Is that how you hit the trees?”

“Oh, no… that’s how I hit the beginner class that was practicing getting on the ski lift. She used both hands – including the one still gripping Hecate’s – to demonstrate knocking the other skiers left and right, complete with sound effects. “It was after I dodged a tiiiiny little beginner that my ski must have caught in a rut.”

“And that’s when you hit the trees?”

“Silly, Hiccup! That’s when I hit the hot cocoa cart.” She leaned so fast and so close into Hecate’s face that Hecate nearly fell off the bed trying to back up. “That’s when I tore my trousers.” Tears welled up in Pippa’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “Look what I’ve done to my trousers, Hiccup… I loved these trousers.” She sniffed mightily. “The man in the cart yelled at me… and he didn’t even offer me any cocoa… and it ruined my…” She pointed at the rip and began crying harder.

“I can fix your trousers, Pipsqueak! Don’t cry.” Hecate started to cast a quick repair spell but thought better of it.

“Really? Would you?” She started scrabbling at the zipper. “I can give them to you right now.”

Hecate snatched Pippa’s hand into her own. “NO! Not just yet. As soon as I get you home. Leave them on for now.” Hecate peered desperately through the crack in the curtain, hoping to find anyone that might be official.

“Promise? Do you?” Pippa’s voice dropped an octave and she waggled her eyebrows. “You’ll get these breeches off me as soon as we’re back at… Where am I going tonight?”

“Back to Pentangle’s,” Hecate said, relieved that her very stoned Pippa already seemed to have forgotten about her torn trousers. “After the cocoa cart… is that when you hit the tree?”

Pippa huffed, suddenly quite put out. “Why do you keep saying that? How do you know the tree didn’t hit me? Must you assume it’s my fault?”

Hecate dropped Pippa’s hand, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose instead. She was going to have a headache that a potion wouldn’t be able to touch by the time this night was over. “I’m sorry, Pip. Is that when the tree hit you?”

“Almost… Cocoa Man stole one of my skis.” She pointed at her plastered ankle. “That one. It hurt. Aaaand it made me roll off the hill.”

Ah… Hecate thought, surely, we must be getting close. “And that’s when the tree got you.”

“Yes. You’ve never seen such fury, Hiccup. Why was the tree so angry?” She tugged her other hand free and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “I didn’t do anything to the tree. I promise.”

“I know!” Hecate started to place a hand on Pippa’s knee before second-guessing herself and letting it drop back into her lap. “I know you would never hurt the tree.” Hecate sent up a brief prayer to any deity that might be listening to please – please – send whoever needed to come and dismiss them. She was sorely tempted to simply transfer them away, but she knew that would only raise questions. Plus, once Pippa mentioned she’d been unconscious long enough for ski patrol to be summoned and that she would need some head scans, Hecate knew she wanted to see the results herself before spiriting Pippa away. Head injuries were one of the areas where magic was little better than Ordinary medicine and Hecate wasn’t about to take any chances with Pippa.

While she was distracted, Pippa leaned over the other way, stretching for something on the side table. Hecate grabbed her arm just in time to keep her from tumbling onto the floor. “Hiccup! I want you to be my first!”

“W-w-w-whaT?”

Pippa lurched back onto the mattress, holding out a black permanent marker. “To sign? Remember, silly? You’re meant to sign it first.”

“Oh… of course.” Hecate took the marker, dodging Pippa’s leg as the blonde swung her plastered ankle over Hecate’s head to lay it on her lap. Hecate wondered, idly, if there was any chance she could get some of whatever drugs they’d given Pippa, but quickly banished the thought. If she was anything like this when she was Miss Softbroom, she thought, ruefully, she’d owed Dimity Drill more than she cared to admit. “Hold still and I’ll sign it.” She waited to make sure Pippa would be still before signing her name, just above Pip’s ankle. “There. All done.”

Hecate nearly jumped out of her skirt when the curtain snapped open and a young intern came, hand out and already introducing himself. An hour later and Pippa was being wheeled out of hospital, followed by a very relieved Hecate. One quick spell dismissed the orderly and two long-distance transfers had them in Pippa’s living room. Two more spells and Pippa’s trousers were repaired, and she was tucked into bed, sound asleep. One last spell and an exhausted Hecate was snoring softly on Pippa’s enlarged sofa.


	25. Carol of the Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate lets her fears and temper get the best of her, throwing her whole reconciliation with Pippa into jeopardy. Her father, and three spirits, help her set things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions alcoholism, bitterness, death. It’s based on A Christmas Carol, there’s some darkness there, y’all.
> 
> Write about a holiday myth or legend, you say? Plagiarize Charles Dickens, I say! Sorry about all the angst that comes with that.
> 
> While not exactly a myth or legend, once this idea took hold, I couldn’t shake it. Certainly, a great debt is owed to the original – but an even greater debt is owed to the Palazzo young reader’s edition of A Christmas Carol that was abridged by Juliet Stanley. It’s well done and beautifully illustrated if you’ve got a young reader of your very own and would like to start a new tradition.
> 
> Trans-Siberian Orchestra does my all-time favorite version of this song.
> 
> Sparky returns from her holiday travels today. We can all rejoice.
> 
> This particular fic was written over a 24-hour time period – like, I haven’t slept in a hideous length of time, even for me. Please, if you spot any errors, be forgiving, but let me know. Thanks!

Hecate stared at her reflection in the mirror. The connection was dead, and she knew it. She’d cut the call herself and she wasn’t sad about that. She didn’t want to see any more of Pippa’s hurt, angry expression.

Their connection was dead, and she knew that, too. Dead by her own hand. Again. Exhaustion and worry had turned into cross words, a scolding for being so careless, a rejected invitation. Her own fears of losing Pippa morphed into a rigid silence guaranteed to push Pippa away. Again. This time, her own anger met with an equally angry Pippa. She would not allow herself to be sad about that.

Let their friendship be dead.

Just as it had been for most of the last thirty years.

It hurt less that way.

Hecate knew she was a difficult, uncompromising, and unsocial witch. She’d been described as cold many times in her life - was neither the first, nor likely the last. There was so much cold inside her it nipped her nose, hollowed her cheeks, stiffened her walk, made her lips purse and her voice icy. She knew the day the Founding Stone failed was not the only day she’d been frozen.

Nobody ever stopped her in the street to say, ‘Hello, Miss Hardbroom! How are you?’ No children asked her to tuck them in at night and no one ever asked Hecate to their birthday celebrations. But Hecate cared nothing about what others thought of her.

Hecate stood and moved to the window. It was a freezing, foggy Christmas Eve and she had work to do. She’d idled enough time away pretending she could be anything that made Pippa Pentangle’s life better. It was dark already, even though it was only a little after three o’clock. The fog was so dense that the trees of the forest looked like ghosts.

She needed to inventory the contents of her ingredient cupboard. Today seemed as good a time as any. She chose to walk instead of transfer, in the hopes that she would burn off some restless energy. She hoped the corridors would be empty. She did not get her wish.

“Merry Christmas, HB!” cried Dimity Drill, cheerfully falling into step beside Hecate. She’d obviously just flown in from somewhere – the frosty flight had given her a healthy, warm glow.

“What right do you have to be merry?” Hecate huffed. “You’re here.”

“What right do you have to be miserable?” Dimity grinned. “I’m only here for a bit.”

Hecate couldn’t come up with an answer, so she said, “Bats! And humbugs.”

“Don’t be cross, Hecate! It’s Christmas!”

“What else can I be,” returned Hecate, “when I live in such a stupid world. What’s Christmas when the Craft is in decline? When you have no fr—when you find yourself another year older but no better for it? If I had my way, I’d hex everyone who wished me a Merry Christmas.” She stopped and turned to face Dimity. “What good has Christmas ever done you?”

Dimity started to respond with a cutting, sarcastic remark, but the haunted look in Hecate’s eyes gave her pause. Something’s happened, she thought, and she’d bet her best broom that whatever it was, it involved a certain witch with a penchant for pink. “It’s the only time I know of when people seem to open up their hearts. So, Hecate, although it has never put money in my pocket, or a trophy on my mantel, I believe that it has done me good, and it will always do me good.” She placed a firm hand on Hecate’s elbow. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Hecate, but don’t be angry. Come and have dinner with us tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Miss Drill,” Hecate said, pulling away.

“Please come? Mum would love to see you. She still natters on about you helping to make all those cookies.”

“Goodbye,” said Hecate.

“Very well,” said Dimity, relenting. “Goodbye, Hecate, and Merry Christmas.”

Hecate transferred the rest of the way to her potions lab.

****

Hours later and Hecate’s mood had only darkened. Somehow, she’d allowed her potions stores to become recklessly low – even to the point of not being able to make commonly used remedies. Clearly, she had allowed Pippa Pentangle to become a distraction. Well, no more. Back to business as usual.

She flicked her wrist and the door to the ingredient cupboard closed and locked behind her. Flipping open her pocket watch, Hecate decided a quick bite from the kitchens would be her best option for the evening meal. Making her way to the door of the potions lab, she reached for the knob, drawing back sharply when she saw her father’s face.

Startled, Hecate cast an illumination spell, looking closely, however, she saw nothing but the normal knob. No face, no shadows…just a regular doorknob. Shaking her head, Hecate dismissed it as the result of being overemotional and overtired. She transferred to the kitchens and made a cold sandwich from some leftover roast and heated a bowl of nettle soup.

Once she finished, Hecate decided to make the long walk back to her rooms, hoping the empty corridors would provide some soothing familiarity for her jangled nerves. Unable to help herself, she checked each doorknob she passed. Every knob seemed its usual configuration. “Bats!” she spat, as she made her way to her rooms.

Arriving in her quarters, she closed the door with a bang. Remembering her father’s face on the doorknob, Hecate checked her rooms. She went through the sitting room. Nobody was under the table or the sofa. She inspected the bedroom. No one was in the cupboard, under the bed, or in her dressing gown.

Satisfied, Hecate got ready for bed and sat in front of the fire to read. She couldn’t concentrate, though, and found herself gazing absently into the flames, Pippa refusing to leave her thoughts. As Hecate stared, each tile around her fireplace filled with her dead father’s face. Almost at once, she heard the tinkling of a bell, much like the one she used to call time during lessons. Soon, bells all over Cackle’s were ringing.

Hecate had no idea how long the ringing lasted, but it felt like forever. Then it stopped. In the silence, Hecate heard a clanking noise coming from the old dungeons. It sounded as though someone was dragging a heavy chain across the stone floor. She could hear the noise getting closer and closer, until it sounded as though it was right outside her door.

“Bats and humbugs!” She said. “It’s just my imagination.”

Her color changed, though, when the door to her room flew open and in walked her father’s ghost. The room took on a chill, despite the roaring fire.

“W-who are you?” Hecate stammered.

“You know who I am, Daughter. Why do you doubt your senses?”

“Because,” said Hecate, “a stomach upset affects them. You may be an undigested bit of beef, or a piece of undercooked potato. You’re more gravy than grave, I think.” Hecate may have sounded brave, but she was trying to control her terror. The spirit of her father disturbed her down to her bones.

“Why are you here? Father?” Hecate asked.

Her father’s ghost stepped closer. “Anyone who does not share their spirit in life is doomed to wander through the world in death and witness what they might have shared on earth and turned into happiness.”

“But… the chains?”

“I wear the chain I made for myself in life, Daughter. You are making your own chains now.”

Hecate glanced down at her dressing gown, expecting to see chains, but none were there.

“Every withheld kindness, every rejected opportunity to connect with another… My spirit never left the confines of books and the Code and now… a weary journey lies before me. I would spare you that journey.”

“I’ve always followed the Code. I –”

“You will be haunted,” her father’s ghost interrupted, “by three spirits. Without their visits, you cannot avoid the same fate as mine. Expect the first one soon. For your own sake, Daughter, remember what I have said.”

Then, the ghost moved towards the window and it opened wide. Hecate followed. She heard confused noises in the air – the sounds of sadness, regret and pain. The ghost joined the choir and floated out into the night.

Hecate slammed the window shut and hurried to her bed. She magicked every light on and crawled under the blankets, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

****

When Hecate awoke, the room was so dark she could hardly see. The clock chimed midnight, though she knew it had been later than that when she went to bed. She felt groggy, knowing she couldn’t have slept through an entire day and into another night. She tried to remember the visit from her father’s ghost. It couldn’t have been real, could it?

When a bell struck one, the lights flashed on and off again and her bedroom door flew open. Hecate found herself face to face with another spirit.

Long, white hair framed a youthful face. A girl, Hecate thought, looking closer. Her arms and legs were bare, and she wore a tunic the color of her old Amulet’s Academy uniform. In one hand she held a fresh, green holly branch, in the other, a bundle of fresh herbs.

“Are you the spirit Father warned me about?” asked Hecate.

“I am,” the ghost replied, sounding very far away. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.” The ghost was holding a witch’s hat, but it was a crushed, moth-eaten thing, worse than Mildred Hubble’s hat ever was. “You don’t care for my hat? It was made by the behavior of people like you. I’m forced to wear it year after year.”

“I’m sorry,” Hecate whispered. “Why are you here?”

“To save you from yourself, of course,” she said, clasping Hecate’s arm gently. “Come with me.”

Hecate found herself transferred to the middle of a snow-filled courtyard. To their left, Hecate could see a group of girls in high spirits, laughing and playing together. Her muscles tensed. She recognized them at once: Agnes Monkshood, Piety Pendragon, Rosalyn Thornspike and the rest of her form.

“It’s end of term, though the school is not quite deserted,” said the ghost. “A lonely child, neglected by the others, is still there.”

“I know,” Hecate said, scrubbing a tear from her face. They walked to the school, entering a door in the back. There, in a long, bare room filled with desks, sat a lone girl with long, dark hair, reading. Hecate stiffened at the sight of her poor, forgotten self.

Suddenly, a vivacious blonde girl wearing a pink coat over her uniform, burst into the room. “That’s Pippa!” Hecate called out happily. “She was my friend.” Hecate smiled broadly as she watched her younger self be pulled out into the courtyard to join in with the others, Pippa’s hand never letting go.

“Let’s see another Christmas,” the ghost said, smiling.

Hecate’s former self grew larger, but there she was, alone again, when all the other girls had gone home for the holidays. She wasn’t reading now but looking nervously out of the window. Again, the door burst open. This time, a teenaged Pippa Pentangle darted in, flung her arms around her neck and kissed her on the cheek.

“If he doesn’t come, you really must come home with me, Hiccup! We can be together for Solstice and Yule and Christmas and we’ll have the happiest time in the world.” Pippa twirled around the room. “It will be fabulous!”

“She’s always had a large heart,” Hecate said fondly. She remembered their quarrel earlier today? Or yesterday? Shaking her head, Hecate murmured, “I’ll never understand what she saw in me.”

“Time grows short,” observed the spirit. “Come quickly!” Suddenly, they were in the Great Hall at Amulet’s Academy. Dozens of trees dripping with fairy lights lined the walls. The night sky twinkled against the ceiling while magical snow flurries filled the air. Hecate recognized it at once:  The Winter Ball of her final year at Amulet’s.

Soon, music filled the room and the girls began streaming in to the celebration. They talked and hugged and danced and laughed. There was cake, cold roast, mince pies and plenty of hibiscus punch. Hecate watched as the girls enjoyed themselves, looking for a familiar flash of golden hair.

There! Hecate spotted them, in the prime of life. Pippa was beyond radiant. Her own face lacked the rigid lines that appeared over the years, but she already showed signs of worry and stress. In an instant, they were closer, and Hecate could see the hurt in Pippa’s eyes.

“But… Hiccup? We’re already here? You look beautiful, darling. Who cares what those other girls think?” Pippa frowned at the girls behind them. “Will you at least dance with me once? We’ve been practicing all term.”

“Pippa…I can’t…” Hecate watched her younger self, willing her to change history. To be brave for Pippa. “You don’t understand…”

“I don’t. I’m here. Those other girls don’t matter to me. At all. I don’t understand why they matter to you.” She stepped closer. “I’ve always been happy with you, Hiccup.” A crowd of girls spotted them and began calling Pippa’s name. She waved them off and stepped closer to Hecate. “I’m here with you, Hiccup. You.”

“That’s just it, Pipsqueak. You should be here with them.”

“But…” Pippa trailed off as Hecate exercised her new-found skill at transferring. “But I love you, Hiccup.”

Hecate clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Pippa had loved her. Months before she’d derailed their lives by abandoning her at the broomstick waterski display, Pippa had loved her. “Spirit!” said Hecate in a broken voice. “Remove me from this place.”

Hecate found herself alone in her bedroom once again, every light ablaze. Sobbing, she flung herself into bed, soon sinking into a deep sleep.

****

When Hecate awoke, it was nearly one o’clock. She opened her bedroom door this time, so she wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Then she waited. And waited. Her stomach twisted in on itself as nothing happened. She turned and opened the window, leaning out into the cold air, still seeing no one.

Turning back into the room, Hecate noticed a strange light coming from the next room and a strange voice was calling her name. She stepped into her living room and saw that the walls and ceiling were covered in winter greenery and a mighty fire roared in the hearth. Her sofa and chairs were gone. In their place stood a large table, laden with a rich feast of meats, cakes, fruits and steaming bowls of wine. At the head of the table sat a jolly giant of a man. The man wore a loose green robe trimmed in white fur; on his head rested a crown of holly. His feet were bare and, in his hand, he carried a glowing torch.

“Well met, Spirit,” Hecate said, hand on her forehead.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” smiled the spirit. “Touch my robe!”

Hecate did as she was told. Everything disappeared, and they stood on the snow-filled city street on Christmas morning. It was still cold and gloomy, but the people bustling about were cheerful, calling out to one another as they hurried to their destinations.

The spirit led Hecate through the city and straight to Mildred Hubble’s flat. Hecate could see that Julie Hubble had followed her instructions to the letter. A slim Yule tree stood in front of the patio door, a handful of presents arranged underneath. The candles danced brightly from their place in the Yule log. An evergreen wreath hung on the door.

Mildred sat on the floor, working on her potions notebook. Hecate frowned. On Christmas Day? Why wasn’t she opening packages?

“Millie!” Julie placed a platter of pancakes in the center of the table. “Put your schoolwork away, love. It’s Christmas.”

“But, Mum… I have to get caught up. I’m tired of being the worst witch at Cackle’s.”

“Worst witch? How can you say that, love? You’ve saved that school more times… And you are from a witching family. You’re nowhere near the worst witch.”

“I wish Miss Hardbroom thought so.”

“Don’t you worry about what old lady Hardbroom thinks about you, love. She’s not as perfect as she thinks she is.”

“But –”

“No buts, love.” Julie tapped the back of the chair with her spatula. “Now come get your pancakes before they get cold.”

Mildred sighed and closed her notebook. Flopping into her chair, she picked up the bay leaf that sat in the middle of her plate. “What’s this for?”

“It’s a tradition of some witching families.” She pulled out a marker and handed it to Mildred. “We write a wish on the leaf and then burn it to release the wish. I thought it sounded like a lovely tradition.”

Mildred took the marker, thought for a moment and then carefully wrote her wish on the leaf. Julie took the marker and did the same.

“Can I light it?” Mildred asked, pointing at the bowl Julie put between them.

“Certainly.” She started to hand Mildred a lighter but put it down when she saw her daughter casting a spell. In seconds, both leaves were burning, filling the kitchen with fragrance. “What was your wish, Millie-Bear?”

Mildred shrugged and started spreading butter on her pancake. “I wished that Miss Hardbroom didn’t hate me so much.”

“I don’t hate you, Mildred!” Hecate dropped to her knees next to Mildred’s chair. “I’ve never hated you.” Hecate turned to look at the spirit. “Does she truly believe I hate her, Spirit?”

“Unless something changes, the child will carry the feelings of isolation and inadequacy for all her days,” replied the ghost. “The Craft is in decline.”

Hecate winced upon hearing her own words turned back on to Mildred. “You are not the worst witch, Mildred Hubble. You are clever and resourceful and kind…” Everything she’d always considered Pippa Pentangle to be, she realized.

The spirit stepped closer, holding out an arm. Hecate nodded and climbed to her feet, clutching at his robe.

They appeared on the porch of a stone cottage. Warm light glowed through the windows, flooding into the garden along with the sounds of music and laughter. One laugh carried over the rest and Hecate recognized it immediately.

“She said she’d hex anybody that wished her Merry Christmas, if she could!” cried Dimity Drill, “and I think she would, too.”

A young man Hecate recognized as Dimity’s brother handed her a mug of wassail. “I don’t know how you put up with her, Dim-bulb.”

“Oi!” Dimity playfully punched him in the arm. “Actually, I like the old crone. A lot. I feel sorry for her, though. I couldn’t be angry with her if I tried.” Her brother scoffed at the idea. “S’true! She’s the one who suffers the most because of her attitude. That’s why I will always give her the same chance every year, whether she likes it or not. I just wish she’d pull the broomstick out of her arse long enough to realize she has friends – and a beautiful woman that’s head over heels for her.”

“Sounds like that woman is you, Sis!” her brother teased.

“You’re who needs a bloody hexing,” Dimity muttered, flicking a blob of magic into his wassail and causing it to splash all over his holiday sweater. “But I reckon if HB doesn’t figure things out soon, she’s gonna lose Pentangle all over again.”

“Wait!” Dimity’s brother shook his head. “They were dating? The glamor girl and Mistress of the Night?”

“Don’t call her that,” Dimity said, punching him again. “I don’t know what they were, but they were definitely something. And neither one of them ever got over it.”

After dinner, the spirit took Hecate to visit sick beds, and foreign lands, struggling people and poverty-stricken families – and all these places were rich with hope, friendliness, patience and love. Their last stop found Hecate standing in very familiar territory: Pippa’s rooms at Pentangle’s. She expected to find Pippa with her family, or singing along to modern Christmas music, or at the very least enjoying a quiet evening with friends.

She didn’t expect to see Pippa curled in a chair, wearing the purple sweater Hecate had loaned her weeks ago, her tear-streaked face glistening in the firelight. Hecate stepped closer. “Pipsqueak?” A tumbler of Witch’s Brew rested on her knee. Hecate tried to pry it from her grip, but her own fingers passed right through it. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry I was cross.” She looked around Pippa’s living room. Everything was a tasteful mix of pinks and blacks. Hecate saw her name embroidered on one of the stockings hanging from the mantel. Why couldn’t she just say ‘yes’ when Pippa had asked her to come for Christmas? “I’m sorry I was so me, Pipsqueak. You’ve always deserved more than I’ve given you.” She glanced down, seeing her signature prominently displayed on Pippa’s cast. It was still the only one there. “Please, Pippa… I’ll make it up…” She couldn’t even finish the thought. How do you make up skipping your first Christmas together in over thirty years? Hecate scrambled backwards as Pippa shoved herself to her feet.

“Merry Christmas, Hiccup. Maybe next year.” Pippa took a long gulp from the tumbler then threw what was left into the fireplace, unflinching in the face of the flareup. Without another word, she summoned her crutches and made her way to her bedroom.

“I didn’t…” Hecate turned to the spirit.

“Shall I wait while you hex her?”

A bell began to chime.

****

Hecate hardly had a chance to get her bearings before another phantom slowly and silently approached. She could see no face, no features. Everything was hidden under a black cloak, save one outstretched hand. The spirit’s mere presence filled Hecate with dread.

“W-well met, Spirit. Are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Be?” Hecate pressed her hands against her thighs. “You are the spectre I fear above all others.”

The spirit said nothing. Its hand pointed straight out in front of them, but Hecate understood.

“Lead on, then,” Hecate said, resolutely determined to see tonight through.

The village seemed to spring up around them, the same but also different. Hecate found herself standing among a cluster of wizards and witches.

“No,” said a great fat wizard with a massive chin, “I don’t know much about it. I only know that she’s dead.”

“When did she die?” asked another.

“Last night, I think,” said another. “The funeral rites ought to be interesting.”

The crowd strolled away, and while Hecate hoped the spirit would explain, the spirit only pointed at two women. Hecate knew these women.

“Do you think she finally drank herself to death?” Dimity asked. “I don’t know how she lasted as long as she did.”

Marigold Mould shook her head. “I hope not. Do you think she knows yet?” Dimity shrugged her shoulders and hurried on through the cold.

They left the busy scene and went to a part of town Hecate had never been before. She knew it by reputation, though. The narrow streets were filled with crime and misery. As they watched, a lorry pulled up, boxes stacked haphazardly in the back. A dark-haired wizard came out of one of the shops.

“I didn’t think you’d be back with the goods this soon!”

“Well, when you don’t have any heirs fighting over yer ev’ry last button, it don’t take too long.”

The dark-haired wizard opened one of the boxes and had a look at what was inside. He offered a small sum of money for the lot.

Hecate shuddered. “Is the dead witch me, Spirit?” Suddenly, she was standing in a morgue, a sheet-covered body on a table before her. Hecate glanced at the phantom. Its steady hand pointed to the body. Hecate could easily have pulled the sheet away, revealing the face. But she couldn’t do it.  “Please, can we leave this horrible place? Surely, someone is affected by this woman’s death.”

The phantom spread its dark robe and Hecate found herself in the middle of a launderette. Puzzled, Hecate studied the people inside. Who spent Christmas Day in a launderette? No one looked familiar, in fact, everyone seemed to be Ordinary. She was beginning to wonder if the spirit had made a mistake when she felt a slight prickle of magic on the back of her neck. She spun around and came face to face with Mildred Hubble.

Sort of.

Mildred stood outside the launderette, paintbrush in hand, as she repaired the painted window murals. Hecate couldn’t help but smile, even if she didn’t understand why Mildred was here, of all places. She found herself on the other side of the glass, examining the woman that Mildred had grown into.

Her clothes were well-worn, barely above ragged. In her thirties, Hecate guessed. She looked angry, her expression bitter and pinched. In the space of a heartbeat, Maud Spellbody appeared by her side.

“Millie! Your mum told me you’d be here.” Maud waited for Mildred to respond in some way. When she continued painting a snowman, Maud doggedly kept on talking. “Have you heard?”

“I’ve heard. Mum told me.” She finally dropped the brush to her side and looked at Maud. “What’s that got to do with me? You know I left the magic world. I do this now.”

“NO!” Hecate looked from Maud to Mildred and back again. “Left? How on earth did that happen?”

“I know. But I know you have to feel something, Millie. Even if it’s been a while.”

“It hasn’t been long enough,” Mildred snorted, taking up her paintbrush again. “You know I was never really a part of that world.  HB told us all often enough.” She stepped up on a stool so that she could reach the top of the painting. “I have to work, Maud.”

“She left.” Hecate said, confused. “Why did you leave, Mildred Hubble? WHY?” Of course, Mildred didn’t answer.

Hecate turned to the spirit and found herself standing in the middle of a churchyard. The spirit pointed to one of the graves.

Dozens of witches and wizards in formal robes crowded around the grave. “Oh! See Spirit? People remembered. I was mourned!” Hecate pressed through the crowd, trying to see who had come. It didn’t take her long to realize that she didn’t recognize anyone.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” an older witch said. “She died all alone, heartbroken.”

“No heirs, no living family at all,” said another. “I heard she spent her entire life pining away for some mysterious lost love.”

“Pathetic.”

“It wasn’t pathetic!” Hecate shouted. “I never stopped loving her…” Hecate pushed through the crowd, still trying to hear everything being said about the woman in the grave.

“Drunk herself to death is what I heard, not that you could ever tell.” A sorrowful young wizard shook his head. “I never would have guessed it at school.”

Hecate froze. She every cell in her body turned to ice – it burned far more than it did when the Founding Stone died. Cackle’s didn’t allow boys. Hecate staggered to the front of the crowd, finally breaking through, the phantom back at her side.

The ghost said nothing and only pointed down at the grave. Following the finger, Hecate looked down at the headstone and read the inscription: PIPPA PENTANGLE.

“No… NO…” Hecate dropped to her knees, stomach churning. “Spirit, are these shadows of things that will be, or of things that only may be?” She clutched at the phantom’s robe. “I swear, I am not the witch I was before… I can change… I will change… I-I will value my friends, Spirit. I will tell her how I feel. I swear I will live a better life!”

But as Hecate clung to the phantom’s cloak, it shrank, collapsed, and dwindled down into a pillow.

****

Hecate saw that the pillow was her own. That the bed she was in was her own. In her own room. She scrambled out of bed. “I promise I will change,” she rasped. She was so hot and aflutter with good intention, and she had been sobbing so much as she had pleaded with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Be, that her broken voice could barely make a sound.

She raced through her quarters, eyes darting everywhere. Her things were still there. Her books still sat on the shelves. Her tea set still sat on the table. She spun around. Pippa’s snow globe still sat on the mantel.

Pippa.

Hecate ran back to her bedroom. As she hurried to dress, Hecate laughed and cried to herself. She turned her clothes inside out, then put them on back to front, forgetting she could simply magic herself dressed.

“No matter,” she said, rapping on her vanity mirror with her knuckles. “Dimity! Dimity Drill! Are you there?” She knocked impatiently until a half-asleep sports witch appeared on the other side.

“Bloody hell, HB, what do you want?”

Hecate sat up, suddenly afraid she was too late. “What day is it?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s Christmas Day, you batty old crone! What do you want?” Dimity tried opening her eyes wide, but she just couldn’t keep them that way.

“I’m not too late, then. May I still come for Christmas?”

“What?” That jarred Dimity into wakefulness. “Why?”

“I want to celebrate with my friends. Please, may I come? I’ll bring food.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can come,” Dimity said, rubbing her eyes. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Hecate bit her lip, working up the nerve to ask her next question. Dimity noticed.

“What else do you want?” she asked.

“Is it all right if I bring a guest?” Hecate waited, rocking back and forth slightly in her excitement.

“If I say yes, can I go back to sleep?” Dimity waved her hand at the mirror. “Whatever, HB. Yes, bring whoever you want.” And with that she closed the connection.

Hecate stared at her refection in the glass. The connection might be dead, she thought, but all it takes is a moment to make another one. Their connection was not dead.

It hadn’t been, not even over the last thirty years.

Their friendship would survive. Thrive, even.

It hurt too much to think of it any other way.

Hecate took a deep, steadying breath before tapping the glass. “Pippa Pentangle,” she said, clearly and calmly. Faster than she thought, Pippa was there. “Pipsqueak… I’m sorry…”

“Hiccup? Is that you? You look like a jumble sale.”

“That’s the one place I haven’t been tonight, actually,” Hecate grinned. “I wanted to… I know we quarreled, and it was my fault… but I wonder –”

Pippa held her hand up to the glass. “Yes. Whatever it is you’re about to ask, yes.”

Hecate placed her hand on the glass against Pippa’s. “I want to spend Christmas with you, Pipsqueak, if you will.”

Pippa’s response was drowned out by the sound of church bells ringing in the village below, so she nodded.  Vigorously. “Happy Christmas!” she said once they stopped.

“Happy Christmas, Pippa, and may the spirits bless us, everyone.”

 

 

 

 

 


	26. This Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Christmas Day and, true to her word, Hecate is trying to learn the lessons from her ghostly visitors. Will Christmas Present be everything she and Pippa hope it will be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, technically the Event is over, but by gosh, I’m going to finish all the prompts.
> 
> This Christmas is another song I’ve never heard of, this time by Donny Hathaway, another new discovery.
> 
> Yet another that has escaped Sparky’s ministrations and thus the errors are all mine.
> 
> I’d like to give a special thanks to @pippa-pentangle over at tumblr for lending me her lovely detail with the ponytail. If you aren’t reading her RPs with @misshecatehardbroom you’re missing a real treat.

Hecate appeared in front of Pippa’s door at exactly nine-thirty Christmas morning, broomstick in hand and dressed for flying. She felt as if an entire colony of bats had taken flight in her stomach while thousand reasons why this was a bad idea wrestled in her brain. It was too late to back out now, she knew that. She could not abandon Pippa again, even for just a day. She would not leave Pippa behind again, wondering what she’d done wrong. Closing her eyes, Hecate breathed in through her nose for a count of ten before exhaling through her mouth for the same count. She felt her nerves and her magic steady. She knocked briskly on the door. It opened at once.

“Hiccup!” Pippa swung towards the door, wielding her crutches much more expertly than she had that first night at hospital. The delight in Pippa’s voice couldn’t entirely mask the relief that Hecate heard there as well. “Punctual as ever, darling. I’m ready as soon as you are.”

Stepping in to the room, Hecate reminded herself to smile. It would be okay. Pippa was here; they weren’t quarrelling any longer. She could endure a day with the Drills. Hecate noticed Pippa struggling with her cloak and her crutches. “Let me, Pipsqueak.” Taking the cloak in her hands, Hecate held it out, settling it on Pippa’s shoulders. Before she could stop herself, Hecate reached out and freed Pippa’s ponytail from under the cloak, letting it trail through her fingers. Coming back to her senses, Hecate snatched her hand away and stepped back a few paces. “There you go. Shall we?”

Pippa was looking at her, with wide, thoughtful eyes. “Thank you,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Are you ready for this?” She waited for Hecate’s nod before summoning her broom. She still didn’t understand what exactly had happened with Hiccup yesterday. She only knew that, after their quarrel, Pippa hadn’t expected to hear from Hecate again – not until Pippa herself made the first move to reconcile. But then, there she was, on the other side of the mirror last night, flushed and flustered, apologizing to Pippa and inviting her to Christmas dinner at Dimity Drill’s of all places. She still didn’t understand how that had come to pass.

Not that it mattered. Pippa would gladly spend the day with the unholy trinity of Hecate’s father, Mistress Broomhead and Agatha Cackle if it meant spending her first Christmas with Hecate.

“I can’t exactly back out now, can I?” Hecate lifted her shoulder slightly. “In for a kitten, in for a cat I suppose.” She tried to squash her doubts again. The dreams that had prompted today were already fading from her memory and she wondered if she was making a foolish mistake. It wouldn’t be her first. “Shall we?” A quick transfer put them on the roof. Hecate helped Pippa get settled on her broom and vanished her crutches and overnight bag for the trip. “I…uh...I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry about the other night. It’s not my place…”

“Not your place to what, Hecate? Not your place to worry about me? Not your place to care? Hiccup? If it isn’t your place to do those things, then whose place is it?” She shook her head. “It is very much your place – even if I fuss about it. Now… I don’t know how all this came to be, but I’m beyond thrilled to be spending today with you – and Dimity Drill.”

Hecate rolled her eyes and groaned. “Just let me apologize now for… everything that’s about to happen?”

Pippa threw back her head and laughed. “This may be the best Christmas yet, Hecate!” She tapped her broomstick and lifted off the roof. “Last one to Dimity’s is a rotten owl’s egg!” She leaned forward and darted away, leaving Hecate standing, stunned for a few seconds before she scrambled onto her broom and raced after her.

****

They landed on the porch, windswept and laughing. Hecate had just managed to pull ahead of Pippa at the end. “Better luck next time, Pipsqueak!” Hecate hopped off her broom and summoned Pippa’s crutches.

“Oh… don’t gloat too much, Hiccup! I’d have had you if it weren’t for my grievous injury.” She stuck her cast-covered ankle out.

“I’m sure… still… you did well… for the second-best flyer at Amulet’s!” Hecate said, grinning smugly.

“Second best!” Pippa, clutched her chest, sounding absolutely scandalized. “Hecate Hardbroom! Someone’s going to have a stocking full of coal!”  Unable to hold it in any more, Pippa dissolved in a fit of giggles. Laughing even harder when the front door burst open and a confused looking Dimity was staring at them.

“Happy Christmas?” Dimity looked back and forth between the two witches on her porch. “Oi! What happened to you, Pentangle?”

“Hot cocoa injury. But it’s all well and good. Hecate’s brewed me up some Rapid Recovery potion for bones and I’ll be right as rain by New Year’s. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Provided you don’t break anything else,” Hecate drawled.

“Well, the afternoon games can get a bit rowdy, but…we’ll try to send you lot back in one piece.” Dimity pulled the door open all the way to make room for Pippa and her crutches. “Come on then, crack on. Mum says luncheon’s on in about half an hour. Should be just enough time to get you two introduced to everybody.” She pressed against the door frame to give Pippa enough room to swing through but stepped out again when Hecate tried to pass. Squeezing Hecate’s arm just above the elbow, Dimity spoke quietly. “I don’t know what made you change your mind, HB, but I’m chuffed that you did – and that you’ve brought Miss Pentangle.” Children squealed from somewhere inside the house. “Now, I know how you are, so I’ve got a quiet spot upstairs for you if all the noise gets to be too much.  You just give me the word.” Hecate nodded, looking relieved. “I am truly glad you came, Hecate.”

“Thank you, Dimity.” Hecate placed her hand over Dimity’s. “I’m glad I did, too.”

 

 


	27. Underneath the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hecate and Pippa are finally winding down on as Christmas comes to a close. Will an exchange of gifts – and confessions – bring them closer together or push them further away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underneath the Tree is a lovely song by Kelly Clarkson that really goes with the mood of this one, I think.
> 
> Thanks to Sparky for her endless efforts in making me sound like I did pass basic English and composition.

“I loved you, you know…” Pippa spoke so softly that she wasn’t sure Hecate could hear her. But when the other woman froze in the middle of putting another log on the fire, she knew. “I know you probably don’t want to hear that…but it’s true.” She took a sip of her wine. “I don’t mean like a friend, either. For the longest time I thought that was why you left.”

Hecate dropped the log into place and straightened up, hands gripping the mantel. She closed her eyes, willing her rising stomach back into its place. “It wasn’t why I left. I…I didn’t even know you felt that way.” Would it have made a difference if she’d known? Honestly? She didn’t think so. Most likely she would have been even more determined to protect Pippa. She turned around but stayed near the fire, pretending she wanted the warmth. If anything, she was burning up inside. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Pippa shrugged. “You were my best friend, Hiccup. I was too afraid to jeopardize that. Part of me was always afraid that there would be something that made you decide I was… too much. Whenever I’d lie in bed at night I’d think about telling you. Especially on those nights that we slept in your bunk or mine, I’d think about telling you.” She took another swig of her wine, downing the rest of the glass. “I could imagine a lot more ways it could go wrong than it could go right. Would you have really wanted to know? Would you have stayed? If you’d known?”

Stricken, Hecate shook her head. “I couldn’t…” She refused to meet Pippa’s eyes. “Please… Pippa… I’m sorry that happened…that I did that…”

“I know. I’m sorry it happened too.” Pippa stared at her empty glass. She wanted another glass. She wanted the whole damn bottle, but that wouldn’t serve her well tonight. She forced a smile on her face and brightness into her voice. “But it was a long time ago, Hiccup. And here we are…and it’s Christmas.” She held out a hand, beckoning Hecate over. “Come here, darling. Please, sit with me. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Hecate hesitated before moving to perch stiffly on the edge of the sofa. “Okay…” She did her best to keep her face impassive, but inside her stomach bubbled and churned. At least it was cooler on the sofa with Pippa.

“Relax, Hiccup, I promise it’s nothing bad. At least I hope it isn’t.” She shifted on the sofa so she could see Hecate’s face. “You look like there’s a First Year trying to brew a level nine potion in your best cauldron.”

“I think that’s what I feel like.” She brushed an invisible speck from her dark green skirt. “I just don’t recall any good conversation that began with ‘there’s something I want to talk to you about.’”

“It isn’t bad, darling. I promise.” She held a hand out and waited as Hecate tentatively laced their fingers together. She still felt the same butterflies she always did when Hecate took her hand. “Do you remember? When we were girls, we held hands all the time. I know I had to make you to start with, but…eventually you would reach for my hand, too. At least you did for a while. Then things changed. You didn’t reach for my hand anymore. You’d let me hold yours, but as soon as there was some sort of excuse… you’d let go. You’d move away. That’s why I thought you knew how I felt.”

“It wasn’t,” Hecate said, staring straight ahead. The flames flickered merrily in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the walls and furniture. Brightly wrapped packages sat beneath a tiny Yule Tree on her side table. The whole scene should have been joyful. Instead, Hecate felt like a Founding Stone was sitting in her stomach. “Do you want more wine?” She asked, trying to lighten the mood and unable to think of anything else to do.

“I do, but I think it’s best I have some club soda instead.” She held out her hand and summoned a bottle of club soda, opening it and pouring half the contents into her wine glass before sending it back to Hecate’s kitchenette. “Do you remember our conversation the night of the Spelling Bee? Our reconciliation?”

“That’s hardly the sort of thing I could forget,” Hecate said, smiling in spite of her nerves. “You said that you wanted us to be friends again – and you understood that I wanted that too, even if I couldn’t get the words out. You said that you would give me all the space I needed, but you wouldn’t go away.” Nervous brown eyes lifted up to meet Pippa’s. “That’s still true, isn’t it?”

Pippa smiled gently. She knew she was the one who should be nervous about Hecate leaving again, but…she didn’t really think that was very likely. “It’s true, darling. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She watched Hecate’s shoulders stiffen. “Sit still. Let’s open presents, shall we?”

Confused, all Hecate could do was nod in agreement. She summoned the packages from their spot beneath the tiny Yule Tree. “You go first,” she said, pressing her package into Pippa’s hands.

Pippa tore the paper off the narrow box and flipped the lid onto the sofa. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but folded papers wasn’t it. She pulled the papers out and opened them up. Scanning through them, Pippa realized it was a registration to the witching world’s most prestigious potions conference. Her potions teacher at Pentangle’s asked to attend every year.

“I’m giving an address… and you said you wanted to hear one of my lectures.” Her cheeks began flushing red. “You also said you wanted to go somewhere together. The conference is in Italy. I thought we could… stay a few days after and sightsee?”

“Oh, Hiccup! It’s perfect. I love it.” She looked up, shining, smiling eyes filling Hecate until she thought she might burst. “I’ll put it on the calendar right away.” She pressed the registration to her chest, sighing deeply. This definitely made her feel better about the rest of the conversation. “Open yours now.” She nudged Hecate’s gift towards her.

Hecate smiled shyly as she pulled the gift onto her lap. “You really didn’t need to get me anything. I think,” she paused as she felt the beginnings of a blush creeping up her neck. “I think having you back is gift enough.”

“Me too, darling.” She reached a hand out and squeezed Hecate’s elbow. “But I wanted to give you this anyway. Have done for a very long time, actually.”

Frowning, Hecate picked up the package with reverence. Her fingers trembled as she slipped them beneath the tape and removed the paper. Delicately, she folded the paper and set it aside. Pippa squirmed with anticipation beside her. Hecate smiled up at her before removing the lid to the box and revealing a deep forest green, leather-bound album. Hecate reverently traced the edge of the album with a black painted nail.

“Go on, then,” Pippa said, “have a look.”

Hecate opened the album, hand flying to her mouth as she stared down at her twelve-year-old self, looking serious and severe standing next to a bubbly blonde girl who had her arms wrapped around Hecate’s waist. “I remember that day,” Hecate said. “The last day of term when your parents came to collect you. You wanted them to meet your best friend.”

“I did,” she said, chuckling. “You weren’t at all sure about it, though.”

“I kept waiting for the punchline.”

“You kept waiting to be the punchline, Hiccup.  But that was never going to be the case with me.” Pippa corrected gently. “It took a long time before you believed that, I think.” She ran a hand down Hecate’s arm. “Or maybe you still don’t quite believe it?”

“It’s… still surprising that you would ever have chosen me.” 

“Funny – it’s never surprised me at all.” Pippa ran her hand back up Hecate’s arm before leaning back against the sofa.

Blushing slightly, Hecate continued to flip through the album.  With the photographs arranged chronologically, Hecate was able to watch them grow up a bit with each flip of the page. In each photo Pippa beamed, one or both arms always draped around Hecate. Early on, Hecate looked like she did in the first picture – stiff and uncomfortable.  She noticed that she changed as she moved further into the album. She started to smile. She stood a little closer. Halfway through and she was loose and grinning, one arm thrown across Pippa’s shoulders.

Hecate’s breath caught in her chest when she reached the last photo. She knew exactly when it was: the day before the broomstick waterskiing display. They were tan, wearing swimsuits and laughing, leaning against one another. They weren’t looking at the camera. They were looking at each other, and Hecate couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How had they not known? The love between them was so, so, visible. Tangible, even. She turned the page to find nothing but blank pages after that.

“It’s pretty obvious in hindsight, isn’t it?” Pippa tapped the album with a pink nail before taking Hecate’s hand in her own. “This is what I want again.”

 Hecate’s heart lurched in her chest. “I don’t understand…” Hecate stared at the album in her hand. “I’m sorry, Pip. I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling. I haven’t been clear. After the Spelling Bee I told you I wanted to be friends again, like we used to be.”

“I remember.” She looked up into Pippa’s eyes. “I said I wanted that, too.” Her lips twisted into a rueful grin. “At least I tried to; you told me that you’d let me get away with just shaking my head yes or no.”

“And you shook your head yes, and I’ve never been so happy.”

“But it didn’t last,” Hecate pulled her hand free from Pippa’s and began wringing her hands together in her lap. “I’m not what you remembered…I’m harder, more rigid. Too difficult.”

“On the contrary, darling. It did last. In fact, it grew. And it’s true, you are all of those things. But you’re so much more, as well. That’s the part you never could see, Hiccup.” She reached out and took Hecate’s hand between her own again. “What I’m trying to say is that I’d like the opportunity for us to be more than friends. If you’d consider it… I’d like to start thinking in terms of getting back what I felt for you before you went away. Those feelings never left, Hiccup, or…if they did, they came flooding back as soon as you were back in my life. I’m not saying I want us to start… dating right now or anything like that. I’d just like to know if you feel… willing… to consider the option.” She squeezed Hecate’s hand one more time before letting go and leaning back against the cushions. It was done. She’d said her piece, and now it was up to Hecate. She reminded herself that she could live with any decision that Hecate made, as long as they could remain friends.

Suddenly, every feeling Hecate struggled to keep tamped down welled up. Her breath caught in her chest and she started to cough. Without thinking she gulped down the rest of her wine – the better part of the glass. This set her to sputtering even more.

Pippa leaned forward and began rubbing Hecate’s back. “Easy there, darling. That’s not quite the reaction I’d hoped for.”  She kept soothing until Hecate caught her breath, then kept rubbing light circles on her back just because she wanted to. “You’re okay. You don’t have to say anything. No pressure, Hiccup. Just breathe.” She offered her glass of club soda, pleased when Hecate drank from it.

“I’m all right, Pipsqueak, I’m just not used to the wine…” She smiled a tight, embarrassed smile and handed Pippa her glass back.

A log popped in the fireplace, startling them both and setting Pippa to giggling. “Look at us, Hiccup, jumping out of our skin because of a little noise.” She stood up and held a hand out to Hecate again. Again, she felt the butterflies when Hecate took it. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.” She waved her hand, and the sofa lengthened and widened. Hecate summoned some bedding and magicked it in to place.

Once the sofa was made up for Pippa, Hecate said goodnight, awkwardly accepting a hug and another kiss on the cheek. At least this one wasn’t followed by another infernal nose boop, but she blushed just the same.

Stopping at the door to her bedroom, Hecate turned around and looked at Pippa, finding the blonde witch looking back at her, smiling. “I loved you, too, you know. That was never the issue.” Without another word, Hecate retreated to her bedroom.

Pippa stared back at her, heart pounding in her chest, smile growing wider by the second.


	28. Coldest Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa has finally broached her feelings with Hecate and hopes that she can start the delicate dance of courtship. Unfortunately, she forgot to ask permission of someone very, very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coldest Winter is one by Pentatonix, those holiday charmers.
> 
> Conversations with Sparky at 9:00 pm on a Saturday night:  
> "Why did you spell yogurt that way?"  
> "I don't know...felt right at the time."  
> "Is that how they spell it in Britain?"  
> "I don't know."  
> "...…." Heavy sigh. "You don't need the comma after too in that paragraph."
> 
> And this is why I can never thank her enough for proofing my weirdness.

Pippa awoke with a start, sitting up and looking frantically around before she recognized her surroundings. Hecate’s, she remembered. She flopped back on her pillow, waiting for her heartbeat to slow down. Her stupid foot had been dragged off the sofa by the weight of her stupid cast, jarring her awake and making her stupid ankle ache. Sighing, she summoned a small bottle and drank down the bitter Rapid Recovery potion Hecate had made for her. The ache disappeared immediately, replaced by a soothing warmth. One more day Hecate said, and then Pippa could get rid of it. Not a moment too soon. That day was today.

She took a moment to admire her cast. Hecate’s clean, neat signature had been joined by a rainbow of signatures and drawings courtesy of the Drill children. Although, now that she thought about it, the bright pink heart now surrounding Hecate’s name didn’t show up until after Dimity added her signature.

The sun was barely beginning to lighten the horizon. It was a beautiful, still morning, the peacefulness only broken by the rumbling of Pippa’s stomach. It was so loud even Morgana, Hecate’s familiar, growled in disapproval. “Sorry, Morgana. I guess I’m hungry.” An idea blossomed in her mind. “I bet your Mistress will be too. What do you say we get her some breakfast?” She summoned her crutches and hoisted herself off the sofa. Surely, she could manage a quick trip to the kitchens.

Pippa maneuvered around the coffee table and out the door. The hallway was freezing. She turned around to go back for a robe when Hecate’s door clicked shut. Morgana glided past her with a curt ‘mrowp.’ Pippa tried the handle… as she expected, Hecate’s door had locked automatically - a charm she used herself.

She cast a warming spell and set out for the kitchen. She didn’t see any point in waking Hecate to let her in until she was back with breakfast. Otherwise, Hecate would surely insist that Pippa needn’t bother. And Pippa wanted to bother.

_Clink – swish…clink – swish… clink – swish…_ Pippa made her way to the kitchens. The lower she got in the castle, the colder the temperature in the corridor. She wished she’d picked up the robe. She’d tried to summon it, but Hecate’s protective charms on her quarters kept anything from being removed without her permission. No worries, she thought, warm enough if I keep moving.

She came to a crossroads in the corridors and tried to remember which direction the kitchens would be. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Morgana slipping around a corner. Deciding that the cat must be accompanying her to the kitchens, Pippa followed. _Clink – swish…clink – swish…_ Until she found herself in a supply closet. “Bother.” She turned around just in time to see a black tail disappear into the hallway as the door swung shut.

She reached for the knob, surprised when it refused to turn. Frowning, she twisted harder, then with both hands. It didn’t budge. The storeroom was even colder than the hallway. Cackle’s was certainly not heating an empty castle during the break. She rubbed her hands over her arms, stretching her sore muscles. Sighing heavily, Pippa planted her crutches firmly and transferred to the other side of the door.

She nearly wound up on her backside in the middle of the hallway. Transfers had never been her strongest suit; landings were always a bit tricky and ungraceful. The crutches did not increase her skill. “No matter,” she said, rebalancing and making her way back to the crossroads.

Taking the other fork, Pippa found herself in the kitchens in no time. Morgana sat on one of the counters, casually licking a paw. “Well met again, Morgana.” She glared at the cat through narrowed eyes for a minute before filling a basket with some fruit and yoghurt she found in the fridge. A quick search of the cupboards yielded some granola and a partial loaf of bread. “This will do nicely, I think,” she said to the cat.

Magicking the basket to float along behind her, Pippa made her way back to Hecate’s quarters. _Click – swish…click – swish…click – swish…_ Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Morgana slinking along behind her. She did not see the cat dart between her crutches until she was stumbling into the wall. Luckily, she was able to catch herself on a narrow table.  “That was on purpose, you naughty kitty!”

She continued on her way, keeping a more watchful eye on Morgana, who had sauntered on ahead. Finally, Pippa turned the corner to Hecate’s hallway. Sitting like a sentinel in front of the doorway was Morgana. Eyes unblinking, slinky black body unmoving.

“I see,” Pippa said, coming to a stop in front of the door. “You’re displeased with me. Have I taken your place on the sofa?” Morgana continued to stare balefully at her. “Not it, hm?” She tried to lean over and reach for the knob, but Morgana’s low growl stilled her hand. “Am I keeping your Mistress away too often during the holiday?” A slight twitch of the whisker. “Ah. I’m getting warmer then, aren’t I? Something to do with your Mistress?” Another twitch.

Pippa straightened up again, cocking her head and looking Morgana square in the eyes. She thought back to their school days. It had taken Morgana a long time to warm up to her then, as well. “You know I’ve missed you over the years as well. You were always such a good familiar to Hecate.” Morgana let out a low growl and then began licking herself in a most inappropriate way. “All right then, no idle flattery for you, you don’t have to be rude about it.” Morgana stopped licking and began whipping her tail back and forth instead. “You never would have behaved with such impropriety bef—”

Oh.

Of course.

Pippa lowered herself to her knees, awkward and slow, bringing herself as close to eye-level as she could manage. “I’m sorry, Morgana. I’ve not gone about things properly, have I?” She grinned, feeling both foolish and… oddly pleased. “I should have asked you at the very first, shouldn’t I have? Well, I’m asking you now, if I might have your permission to… well… court, I guess, your Mistress. Court her into the idea of courting, more like. If that’s all right with you?” The tail slowed down. “I promise I will do everything in my power not to hurt her. And I’ll take care of her to the extent that she’ll let me.”

Morgana gave a short ‘mwrip’ and then began purring. She turned around and opened the door to Hecate’s quarters. “Thank you, Morgana.” Pippa adjusted her grip on her crutches, so she could pull herself up from the floor. As she looked up, she found herself staring into Hecate’s frantic brown eyes.

“Hiccup?”

Hecate sagged against the door frame. “I – I thought you’d left…”

“Without saying goodbye? Never!” She held a hand out and waited for Hecate to pull her up. “I’ve gone and fetched breakfast, is all.” She overbalanced, falling against Hecate, who slipped an arm around her waist. “My goodness, this morning is looking up, isn’t it?”

Hecate released a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. Pippa hadn’t gone. Her confession last night hadn’t… pushed her away. A tremulous smile played across her lips. “Would there be anything in that basket besides donuts?”

“There’s not a donut to be had, Hiccup.”

“Then the morning is, indeed, looking up.” She helped Pippa into her quarters, closing the door once the basket had floated inside.

 


	29. It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the morning after an unexpected confession and Hecate hardly knows what to do with herself. She’s not even sure she didn’t dream the whole thing when she discovers her rooms are empty of the one thing she might want the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Hecate has a few moments of self-doubt and panic, but they pass.
> 
> A holiday standard that goes way back, but this is Kylie Minogue’s version. Of course.
> 
> I finished this one at 7:13 in the evening. I hardly know what to do with myself. Thanks to Sparky for spending her Saturday night proofing fanfic for me.

Hecate cinched the belt of her leather robe tightly around her waist. Rosy tendrils of sunlight were just beginning to broach the darkness, but she couldn’t stay in bed a minute more.

Pippa loved her. Or… at least she had once and wanted to see if she could love her again. Or still. Hecate didn’t know. All she knew was that the very possibility sent her magic fizzing through her blood and bones and brain. She could barely keep it confined to her body. She thought this might be what giddiness felt like.

It also terrified her to her core.

Pippa could deny it all she wanted, but Hecate knew that she was different now… and not in ways that made her easier to be with. She knew that. She also knew, as much as Pippa might say otherwise, that Pippa knew it too.

So here she was, wondering how long she could stand at the fork in the road, pondering what to do. As far as Hecate could tell, either choice had a better than even chance of leaving her alone again.

But Pippa wasn’t expecting an answer today, or even tomorrow. She had time to think. And overthink.

Pippa was, however, going to expect breakfast. She was also expecting to get her cast off today. Both of those things were well within Hecate’s abilities.

Although she could have simply transferred to the kitchens for some breakfast, Hecate had an overwhelming urge to check in on Pippa. To prove to herself that she was _really here_ , and that last night had actually happened. Hecate glanced at her bedside table and the photo album resting on top of it. That much was real, at least. She’d spent half the night pouring through the album again and again.

So she wouldn’t wake Pippa with the creaky door and to burn off a bit of her magic, Hecate transferred into her living room.

Pippa wasn’t there. The sofa was still enlarged, but the blankets had been neatly folded and the robe she’d loaned Pippa was draped over the back of it. Hecate raced to the bathroom finding it empty.

Had she gone? Had she regretted her confession the night before? Had Pippa fled at the very idea of being romantically involved with her?

Of course, she had. Hecate’s knees gave out, and she only just managed to transfer to the sofa rather than collapse on her own floor. She pulled her knees against her chest and rested her head against them, breathing in and out and telling herself that she was no worse off than she was before the Spelling Bee. Before the last six months of gradually opening herself up to the idea of having Pippa back in her life.

One last, shattered breath and Hecate lifted her head. Tea. She could do with some tea. It was certainly too early for Witches Brew. Unwinding herself from the sofa, Hecate turned towards her kitchenette… and stilled.

Pippa’s cloak still hung by the door, brilliant magenta against the gray walls. Hecate lurched across the room and yanked open the broom cupboard. Pippa’s broom still leaned next to hers. “Pippa?” She didn’t expect an answer, but… “Pipsqueak?” She checked her study, just in case. Stop, she thought, use your brain. Where would Pippa go? For a walk? For… for breakfast!

Hecate whipped her door open and there on her knees was Pippa. She seemed to be having some sort of tête-à-tête with Morgana.

A bright smile lit Pippa’s face as she met her eyes. “Hiccup?”

Hecate sagged against the door frame. “I – I thought you’d left…” She reached for Pippa’s outstretched hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Without saying goodbye? Never!” She jerked her thumb towards the basket behind her. “I’ve gone and fetched breakfast, is all.” Overbalancing, she fell against Hecate, who supported her with an arm around her waist. “My goodness, this morning is looking up, isn’t it?”

Hecate exhaled, slowly feeling some of the tension leave her body. Pippa was still here.  She hadn’t fled, regretting her confession from last night. A tremulous smile played across her lips. “Would there be anything in that basket besides donuts?”

“There’s not a donut to be had, Hiccup.” She gave the hand at her waist a squeeze.

“Then the morning is, indeed, looking up.” She helped Pippa inside, sending the basket into the kitchenette. “You’re freezing! What on earth were you doing out in the corridors without a robe?” She rubbed her hands briskly up and down Pippa’s arms.

Pippa glanced down at Morgana, who swished contentedly around her mistress’s legs. “It wasn’t exactly my choice, darling. Your familiar and I…” she leaned down and held a hand out for Morgana to rub her head against. “We needed to come to a bit of an understanding. Didn’t we?”

“I’m not sure I follow…” Hecate pulled Pippa upright and helped her get settled on the sofa, magicking it back to its proper size as she did.

“Your familiar wanted to make sure my intentions were honorable, Hiccup.” She grinned again, even brighter. “I believe I’ve managed to successfully convince your cat that I’m sincere in my affections. Now all I have to do is convince you.”

Hecate stilled, her eyes darting back and forth between Pippa and Morgana. “I…” She snapped her mouth closed, swallowing whatever words had been threatening to break free. “I just need to convince myself, I think.”

“It’s okay, Hiccup. I told you: no pressure, no hurry. We can take our time getting there. Or we can stay here. As long as you are in my life, I’m the luckiest witch in the world – in whatever way you’re in it.” She watched Hecate swallowing convulsively as her eyes glossed over. It was time to shift the topic of conversation. “Now, my stomach is as empty as a classroom cauldron during summer break. Let’s have some breakfast.” She gently nudged Hecate towards the basket. “I’ll pour tea for us if you’ll fetch some plates.” She scooted back on the sofa and plunked her plastered ankle onto the coffee table. “Not to mention, Hiccup, you said that today is the day the cast could come off.”

 

 

 


	30. Jingle Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight is the big New Year’s Eve bash at Pentangle’s and Hecate, much to her dismay, has agreed to go. But Pippa knows her friend. And she has a few surprises up her sleeve to make Hecate’s night special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jingle Bells has been around forever. Pick whichever cover is your favorite.
> 
> Thanks to Sparky who proofed this for me instead of watching the Golden Globes. Technically, this was the last one written and proofed and she's stuck it out the whole way through.

Hecate checked her bag one last time. She couldn’t believe she’d let Pippa talk her into spending New Year’s Eve at Pentangle’s Academy. The Pentangle’s New Year’s Eve party was famous – infamous really. Though Pippa had promised she’d enjoy herself, Hecate couldn’t imagine that would be true.

She flipped open her pocket watch and checked the time. Pippa had been very cagey about tonight’s plans, saying only that she should pack to spend the night and be waiting in front of Cackle’s at five-thirty in the evening. It was five twenty-eight. Hecate gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, smoothing her hands down her Ordinary style jumper and woolen trousers. Again, Pippa’s instructions – dress warmly and be ready to blend in with the Ordinaries. She flicked her wrist and transferred to Cackle’s entry.

The cold hit her like a brick, and for a flash of time she was back in the ice. She pushed the feeling away, casting a warming spell so strong she would be sweating soon. She still didn’t know what all of this business was about; she could be at Pentangle’s in two easy transfers, or half an hour on her broom.

Ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching!

The sound started small, then grew, louder and louder with each passing second. A moment later a red carriage, pulled by a pair of white horses wheeled through the gate. The driver wore holiday green, matching the horses blankets, the upholstery and the swags of greenery decorating the carriage.

The only thing out of place was a deep pink figure riding in the back seat. Hecate cut the warming spell. She didn’t need it anymore. She watched the carriage swing around the drive, keeping her face impassive until the carriage swung to a stop in front of her.

“Hello, milady!” Pippa leaned out of the carriage offering Hecate a hand up. The driver was on the ground in an instant, taking Hecate’s bag and helping her into the carriage. In no time, Pippa had Hecate in the seat and tucked under a heavy quilt.

“What is all of this?” Hecate asked, inspecting the inside of the carriage and the quilt and… and how lovely Pippa looked in her pink coat and fuzzy white hat. “I don’t understand…” Merciful Merlin… was this a date? Hecate’s eyes widened.

“There’s nothing to understand, Hiccup.” Pippa could see the panic rising in Hecate, and she second-guessed herself again. “I’ve been getting ready for the party all day, and I wanted to relax a bit. With you. This seemed like a fun way to get you to Pentangle’s.” Pippa fluffed and tucked the quilt around them, making sure they were touching, but only just so. She didn’t want to make Hecate any more nervous than she was, or make her feel trapped in any way. “Do you like it?”

In truth? Hecate didn’t know if she liked it or not. But Pippa looked so hopeful and… well, she didn’t dislike it. “It’s… nice… I’ve never done the whole carriage ride thing before. It’s not as cold as I expected.”

Pippa leaned over so the driver couldn’t hear her, whispering in Hecate’s ear. “That’s because I chanted a little bubble over the carriage so it wouldn’t be too cold, just cold enough.” She leaned back, but not quite all the way, and she was immensely pleased when Hecate seemed to relax into her as well. “Isn’t the sky lovely tonight, Hiccup? It’s like you can see the whole Milky Way tonight.”

“It’s beautiful,” Hecate said, pulling her eyes away from Pippa to look up at the sky. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Hecate doubted that. Even in the best of times, parties were not to her liking… but for Pippa she would try. “I’m sure I will.”

Pippa smiled reassuringly. “Would you like some hot cocoa? I got the dark kind that you like with the cinnamon and the hint of cayenne.” She reached into a basket on the floor of the carriage and pulled out two travel-mugs of cocoa. Hecate accepted gratefully.

“You remembered,” Hecate sighed, warming before she’d even taken a sip of the cocoa. One thing she had to admit about Pippa, she remembered details like that. To be honest, Hecate seldom drank cocoa at all anymore, but she’d always loved that particular mix. Pippa had returned to Amulet’s with it after a winter break had taken the Pentangles to Mexico. She’d given Hecate a canister of it every Christmas after, until there weren’t any Christmases after. Hecate hadn’t been able to buy it for herself.

“How could I forget? It’s just like you… dark and spicy…”

“And a little bit bitter?” Hecate said, drily.

Bright laughter bubbled up from Pippa at that. “Just the perfect amount, Hiccup – like good coffee and dark chocolate.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “You always made me laugh more than anyone else.”

Hecate relaxed into the carriage seat. She loved hearing Pippa laugh. Pippa had never laughed at her expense, even when they were girls and she was laughing at something Hecate had said or done. She never laughed at her. And Pippa had always laughed at herself more than anyone else. “You too, Pip. No one has ever made me laugh quite like you did.” It was true, too. She could play with Ada and be silly and Dimity… well, Dimity was amusing in her own way, but Hecate had never found the ability to just let go with anyone else in quite the same way. She wondered if that was still true or if their separation had stolen that as well.

Pippa leaned a bit heavier into her. “You’ve gone into your head, I think, Hecate. Flying after happy memories, I hope?”

“Memories of us from a long time ago,” she said, sadly. “I’m feeling the gap, I suppose.”

Nodding, Pippa hooked her arm through Hecate’s under the blanket. “It creeps up every now and again, doesn’t it, like a familiar chasing down its shadow? When that happens to me, I just focus on my very favorite memory of us until it goes away.”

Hecate turned away, watching the bright lights of the village as they rolled past. “Favorite memory? I don’t…” She started to say she didn’t have one, but that was a lie. One memory shined brighter than all the rest – the first day they’d done their broomstick waterskiing routine perfectly. They’d been so excited, Pippa had flung her arms around Hecate and spun them around until they collapsed onto the grass, laughing and hugging. Pippa had even planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “The first time we made it through the routine.”

“That’s mine, too.” Pippa pressed tighter against her before settling back. “At least, it used to be.” She felt Hecate stiffen so she added quickly, “Now I think my favorite memory of us hasn’t happened yet.” Hecate loosened, her posture relaxing into the curve of the seat.

They rode the rest of the way in companionable silence, simply enjoying the scenery and the company. As they finally approached Pentangle’s, Hecate could hear the roar of the party blaring from the roof. Her lips pressed together in something she hoped would pass for a smile – or at least something Pippa would pretend was a smile. The driver hopped down from the carriage with practiced grace, hurrying over to assist Hecate and Pippa as they climbed down more cautiously.

Pippa grimaced as she landed on the frozen ground.

“Ankle?” Hecate leaned down to fuss, but Pippa shooed her away.

“It just twinged a bit - wasn’t careful.” She handed Hecate some carrots from her pocket. “Go thank the fellows who did all the work tonight while I settle up, would you?”

Hecate took the carrots and moved around to greet the horses. The first one she came to was a beautiful chestnut with the name ‘Hammurabi’ stamped into his leather horse collar. “Thank you, Hammurabi, for conveying us to our destination.” She held a carrot in her open palm, rubbing the horse’s velvety nose as he nibbled the vegetable and lipped at her hand. “I’m a bit of a fan of Codes as well, you know. Too big, some would say.”

Once he’d finished the carrot, she moved over to the other horse, another chestnut, this one with a white blaze down his forehead. “There’s a handsome boy,” she said, holding out another carrot. Hecate checked the name. “Oh! I beg your pardon, Lady Evangeline! Aren’t I a silly witch?” She rubbed the blaze on Evangeline’s forehead, talking softly to her, and then again to Hammurabi when the big steed nudged her with his nose.

She looked up to find Pippa watching her intently, a small smile on her lips and something unreadable in her eyes. She gave the horses one last rub and joined Pippa on the walkway; by unspoken agreement they watched the carriage until it disappeared around the bend. As soon as it was out of sight, Pippa transferred their belongings to her quarters.

“Shall we head to our party, darling?” Pippa asked, holding out an elbow. “I’ll transfer us right up.”

Hecate would have loved to stay right where she was – or to have stayed in the carriage for that matter, but she squared her shoulders and nodded her head. Pippa snapped her fingers, and they disappeared.

Bracing herself for the noise, Hecate was surprised when they appeared in the blissful quiet of Pippa’s living room. “I don’t…”

“This is our New Year’s Eve, Hiccup. I wouldn’t subject you to the Bacchanalia that’s going on up there.” She snapped her fingers and waved her hands. A mini-buffet table appeared next to the sofa, filled with crudités of all sorts as well as a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. The chessboard sat ready as did a handful of other games and a movie or two. “I’ll have to make an appearance, and I’d love for you to join me, but I intend for us to celebrate down here. No one up there will even know I’m not there.”

“Y-You did this for me?” Hecate breathed, looking around in amazement.

“I did this for us, Hiccup. It’s a new year and a new start. I wanted it to be something we would both enjoy. Now…” she pointed to the chessboard and arched one eyebrow. “It’s my last opportunity this year to try and even up the score. Let’s play.”

 

 

 

 

 


	31. Auld Lang Syne/It's A Beautiful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s New Year’s Eve and Pentangle’s Academy is hosting the biggest blowout of the year. The Headmistress, however, can’t wait to start her day – and her year – with her Hiccup. She just hopes Hecate feels the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This originally showed up on tumblr as two separate prompts; here I've combined them into one New Year's Eve/New Year's Day storyline. That's why there are two songs to the title. 
> 
> Auld Lang Syne is, of course, THE New Year’s Eve song. U2's song seemed the perfect start for a new year.
> 
> As ever, thanks go to Sparky for her editing. I owe her so much for sticking this out with me. I also need to say thanks to my family who are very supportive about this new obsession and create time for me to write.
> 
> Happy New Year’s All – especially to @cassiopeiasara for putting this thing together. Thank you so much for this opportunity!

Hecate stopped talking, lifting her eyes to the ceiling and trying to place… “Did I just hear a cow?” She twisted around to look at Pippa. “Has someone brought a cow onto your roof?”

Pippa rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Frankly, she was surprised that even Hecate’s sensitive ears could make out the cow.  “I told them to leave Matilda be.”

“M-matilda. Is that the cow?”

“If I were a wagering sort of witch, I’d say yes. A Mr. Shelby has a small dairy farm a few miles down the road. Holsteins, I believe.” She sipped her tea. “I believe we invited the Shelbys to the party tonight.”

“And that included the cow?” Hecate settled back into the cushions and returned her attention to the chessboard between them. The Pentangle’s Rooftop Party every New Year’s Eve was legendary. Anyone and everyone in the witching world hoped to score an invitation. “And here I thought the event was somewhat… exclusive.”

Pippa threw her head back and laughed. “You, dear Hiccup, are on a very exclusive guest list.” She winced as the unmistakable sound of a cow could be heard again. “Matilda is part of the riffraff getting plastered at the kegger on the roof.” Two sets of eyes followed the sound of hoofbeats galloping across the roof.

“Should you…”

“Plausible deniability, Hiccup. Plausible deniability. If those ridiculous wizards that must play at putting cake on that poor cow didn’t have sense to place charms and protective spells around both bovine and roofline… Well, I think I’d much rather stay right where I am.”

Hecate’s lips quirked up in a smile. “I’m not even going to ask about why one needs to put cake on a cow.” She took one of Pippa’s knights.

“Oi! Look at you distracting me with all this talk of a cow just so you can steal my horse!” Pippa flopped back in her chair, expression set in the most pitiful pout she could muster.

“All’s fair in love and chess, Pipsqueak. You know that.”

Pippa’s eyes whipped up, staring hard at Hecate at the first mention of the L word. She relaxed again when Hecate seemed oblivious to the effect her words had on Pippa. Time to be less subtle, Pippa thought. She leaned forward and plucked her knight out of Hecate’s fingers before setting it aside and taking Hecate’s hand in hers. “Have I told you, lately, how incredibly pleased I am that you decided to join me tonight.” Her own grin broadened as she watched the blush creep up Hiccup’s throat. “It’s been a lovely December, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been the best December I can remember, Pipsqueak.” Hecate smiled and squeezed Pippa’s hand back. “I’m glad you haven’t… given up on me yet.”

“Never, Hiccup.” Pippa leaned forward bringing her face within inches of Hecate’s. “It would be like giving up on myself.” Pippa’s breathing quickened; she swallowed convulsively and leaned the tiniest bit closer, searching Hecate’s face for any clue to how she was feeling.

“BLACK RABBIT! BLACK RABBIT! BLACK RABBIT!” A chorus of voices shouted outside.

Pippa jerked back, swallowing a dozen hexes she was prepared to hurl at the crowd on the roof.

Hecate was blinking rapidly, like she was coming out of a trance. “Is it already?” She opened her pocket watch and checked the time. “Less than thirty seconds, Pip! Do you want me to transfer us to the roof?”

“I have a better idea.” Pippa grabbed Hecate’s hand and pulled her off the sofa. “Come on, then, get your skates on!” She nudged Hecate towards the French doors leading to the Juliet balcony behind her desk. Summoning two flutes of Champagne from the rooftop bar, Pippa ushered them onto the balcony just as cheers erupted above them. “Happy New Year, Hiccup. May this one be full of the promise of beautiful things.”

“WHITE RABBIT! WHITE RABBIT! WHITE RABBIT!”

Hecate’s jaw clenched. “How many bottles of Witch’s Brew do you think they’ve gone through so far?”

Before Pippa could answer, the first of the magical fireworks exploded above them, filling the sky with glittering red and green streaks. “Who cares?”

“If you’d rather go to the roof with everyone else –”

Pippa slipped an arm around Hecate’s waist and rested her head against Hecate’s shoulder. “I’d rather remember tonight, Hiccup.” Fireworks still filled the sky, even as the first strains of “Auld Lang Syne” began to waft down from the roof. Pippa leaned up and kissed Hecate’s cheek. “Happy New Year, darling.”

“Happy New Year, Pipsqueak.” Hecate clinked their glasses together. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

 

****

Pippa eased her bedroom door open, slowly tilting her head around and sneaking a peek at Hecate. For a heart-jarring moment, she thought that Hecate had gone. Ignoring the twinge in her ankle, Pippa lurched towards the enlarged sofa, stopping short when she heard a soft snort. Pippa edged closer, the corner of her mouth lifting as she took in the sight before her.

Despite what most people thought, Hecate was not an ‘early to bed, early to rise’ sort of witch. No. Sleep had always been difficult for Hecate, whether it was due to anxiety, nightmares, or her own restless magic constantly humming beneath her skin. But when sleep did come for Hecate, it came hard.

Left to her own devices, Pippa knew that Hecate would be entirely nocturnal. Even as a girl, Hecate had been a creature of the moon and stars far more than she had ever been a creature of the sun.

She also, though Pippa knew she would deny it, took any opportunity for a lie-in very seriously. Hecate was serious about a great many things but sleep most of all. This morning, Hecate had burrowed so far into Pippa’s sofa that she had all but disappeared. Only a tiny tip of Hecate’s braid peeped out from under the pillow.

Pippa grinned as warmth flooded her chest. This, at least, was old, familiar territory. She loosed a thin stream of magic into the fireplace, setting it to crackling once again, and tiptoed into her kitchen. Compact but functional, Pippa’s kitchen had everything she needed to prepare even elaborate meals. It more than sufficed for what she needed this morning.

Humming softly, Pippa set to work, readying the tea set for later, but first brewing up a strong pot of coffee. She’d shopped earlier, as soon as Hecate had agreed to come for New Year’s, and she was well-stocked on pastries, fruits and compotes, as well as fresh yoghurt. With a flick of her hand, Pippa heated the oven. A second flick summoned a baking sheet and a ham and cheese quiche. Once, that was heating, Pippa arranged everything else on a tray and crept back into the living room, setting the tray on her coffee table as quietly as possible.

A moment later and Pippa was on her knees at the end of her sofa, holding a steaming cup of coffee near where she guessed Hecate’s head would be. “Hiccup? I’ve brought coffee. And breakfast.” Gingerly, Pippa touched what she hoped was Hecate’s back and started rubbing gently. “It’s a beautiful day, Hiccup. I know you don’t want to miss any of it.” She stilled her hand when she felt Hecate take a deep breath, but she didn’t take it away. “That’s it, darling. Coffee’s waiting.” She waved the mug a bit so the aroma would waft around more before setting it on the coffee table with the rest of breakfast. “Come on, Hiccup, let me see those beautiful brown eyes of yours.” The blankets stirred, albeit slightly. “Good girl.” She started rubbing Hecate’s back again, using a little more pressure. The fact that she could have been doing this for the last thirty years gnawed at a dark corner of her brain, but she refused to give it any purchase. Instead, she focused on the possibility of doing this for the _next_ thirty years.

The timer dinged from the kitchen. “I’ll be right back, darling.” Pippa rushed to pull the quiche from the oven. When she returned a few minutes later, a very disheveled Hecate was sitting up, blinking slowly as she looked around the room. “There’s my girl,” Pippa said, warmly. She set the quiche on the tray and handed Hecate the coffee. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, I only know how you like your tea.”

“Black.” Hecate reached for the mug, holding it against her chest and breathing in the aroma. “Caffeine. Pure.”

Pippa giggled and brushed a strand of hair from Hecate’s forehead. She knew Hecate was still more asleep than awake when she didn’t stiffen in the slightest. “Well, then I made it just right, didn’t I?” She pulled the pale pink woven blanket off the end of the sofa and tucked it around Hecate. “There. We don’t want you getting a chill, do we?” She watched Hecate as she finally took a sip of her coffee.

“Did you do all of this?” Hecate nodded at the breakfast tray. “You didn’t need to go to all of this trouble.” She set her mug down on the coffee table. “I really should be getting back to Cackle’s. I’ve taken up enou—”

“Stop. Please, don’t do that, Hiccup.” Pippa fussed with the blanket. “Yes. I did all of this. For you. For us. I have the privilege of spending the first day of the new year with my very favorite person.” She watched the worry in Hecate’s eyes shift slowly into disbelief then amazement. Finally, she saw the barest dip of Hecate’s chin. “Now, stop trying to cut it short and hand me a plate before the quiche gets cold.”

“We’re witches, Pipsqueak. We can heat it up again.” She ran her eyes up and down the pink flannel pajamas. Tiny donuts were printed all over. “Nice pajamas.”

“That we can, Hiccup. And thank you. Your purple ones are nice, too.” Crisis of faith averted, Pippa sliced into the quiche, serving it up with a lemon poppyseed muffin and a dollop of yoghurt. “Here you go. Nothing too sweet.” They ate in companionable silence for a while, listening to the crackling fire. “Do you have anything special you do on New Year’s Day, Hiccup?” Pippa asked at last. She realized again how much of one another’s lives they’d missed. Was she keeping Hecate from something important to her? “I guess I should have asked that before I bullied you into staying.”

The fork paused halfway to Hecate’s mouth then slowly lowered back to the plate. “I usually spend the day reading or organizing my cupboards. I might have tea with Ada if she hasn’t any other plans.” She took a steadying breath before continuing. “I could hardly call it bullying if the thing you want me to do is something I want to do as well.” Hecate smiled and looked down quickly, studying her slice of quiche intently before taking another bite.

Pippa was smiling too hard to eat. Or drink her coffee. Or do much of anything except enjoy the fact that Hecate wanted to be here. With her. Finally, she shook herself out of her happy haze. “I wonder then, Hiccup, if you’d care to take part in one of my favorite New Year’s Day traditions?”

“Certainly… Is it a chant or a ritual?”

“Oh, no, Hiccup… nothing like that.” She cocked her head to the side, thinking about it. “Well… maybe it is a bit of a ritual.” She held her hand out and summoned the remote control for her television. “Have you ever seen the Rose Parade? It’s in California, in America.”

“I know where California is, Pip. And no, why would I have seen an Ordinary parade?”

“The Ordinaries may do it, Hiccup, but it’s far from ordinary. Every float must be completely covered in plant material. You’ll love it.” Pippa held up the remote, enticingly. “What do you say?”

Hecate shook her head indulgently. “Very well, Pipsqueak. Let’s see if these Ordinaries even know the proper names for the plants.”

Pippa clicked through the menu, watching Hecate out of the corner of her eye as she followed her every move. Did Hecate even have a television? “Here we go.” She tossed the remote down on the sofa and leaned back, summoning her tea again.

Before Pippa could settle in, Hecate cleared her throat and lifted the edge of her blanket. “We’d wouldn’t want you to get a chill, either, would we?”

“We certainly wouldn’t,” she said, scooting towards Hecate and under the blanket. “We wouldn’t want that at all.”


End file.
